


Three Stars

by beforethedawn, ConstructFairytales, Destinyawakened



Category: Hannibal (TV), Mænd & høns | Men & Chicken (2015), The Path (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Canada, Cannibalism, Fingering, First Kiss, First Times, Georgia, Hunting, Killing, M/M, Murder, Post Season 3 Finale, Religion, Rimming, Road Trip, Roadtrip, Smut, Snow, Snowed In, Spanking, Will and Hannibal take on new identities, cabin in the woods, faith - Freeform, meyerism, see characters listed above, sub par food, talks of abuse, three star hotels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-10-13 10:53:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 94,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10512303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beforethedawn/pseuds/beforethedawn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConstructFairytales/pseuds/ConstructFairytales, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destinyawakened/pseuds/Destinyawakened
Summary: Three months after the fall, Jack finally tracks them down in Canada and Will and Hannibal have to make a run for it, slumming it through America in three star hotels an eating sub par food.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 1) I don't know if it has to be explained, but you'll catch on the identities.  
> 2) Follow us on Tumblr!  
> 3) Kudos and comments are the best, it's all we really ask for in return!

 

“Your friend, from the FBI, he is on his way here,” Chiyoh said, plainly, no emotion wrought in her tone, but the way she held her rifle, trained on Will, was more than enough of a warning.

Snow crunched under his feet as he kept walking, unbothered by her bluntness, or her lack of trust, even now.

“Did you hear what I said? He is going to be here any moment.”

“I heard you,” Will finally replied, pace kept as he walked back to the remote cabin in the middle of nowhere, Canada.

The walk back was quiet, but urgent, though Will would not let the panic in him take over now. Chiyoh was a hard read, always had been, and life with her around was less than stellar, but she'd been a great help since picking them up two months ago. All for Hannibal's sake, of course, but Will would take it, as they had, and still had, no other choices.

He pushed the cabin door open, pulling off his gloves and stuffing them into the pockets of his oversized coat. “Get your things, we have to go now.”

They had prepared for this, of course, knowing the day would come that Jack trailed them all the way here, just as he had followed Hannibal to Italy. Will grabbed his pack of things and keys to the vehicle they could use to get to the border at least, after that it would useless, stolen, and likely being watched for by patrol there.

Chiyoh waited by the door, though Will knew beyond this moment she would not venture after them, and this was where they would part once more, but not without idle threats and icy glances as cold as the snow itself.

Hannibal opened his eyes at Will’s voice, groggy from the heavy painkillers. He pushed himself into sitting in bed. “Jack?” he guessed as he stood, and shuffled to the closet to dress as quickly as he could, wearing only his briefs.

The cabin was toasty enough that Will didn't worry about Hannibal's attire too much. After two months here they'd grown used to each other, even if Will avoided a lot of talk, not sure what to say after everything. He said things thinking he'd never have to face them. He gathered things into Hannibal's bag get going faster.

“Yeah. He's coming.”

Chiyoh went to help Hannibal into his clothes. “Rumors in town say he is close, looking for you. People have not been quiet about seeing you.”

Hannibal sighed and stared at Will as he buttoned his shirt. Will was even more stunning than usual through a light haze of narcotic painkillers. “I can hardly be blamed for that,” Hannibal said, calmly.

“No, it is not your fault,” Chiyoh agreed as Will packed and left a bag on the bed now filled and then worked in the other. Will found his gun and loaded it, slipping it into the back of his pants.

“Just rumors but it's enough that Jack is following the lead,” Will said, and moved himself between Hannibal and Chiyoh to speed up the process of getting Hannibal properly dressed for the freezing cold weather.

Hannibal’s side had been mended, crudely, and bandaged around his abdomen. It was a challenging, and rocky recovery, most of his time was spent sleeping as his body began the arduous process of mending itself. “How long do we have?” Hannibal asked, as he thanked Chiyoh for pushing his hair into place and fetching his shoes.

“I wouldn’t count on long, best we get a head start,” Will said, buttoning up Hannibal’s shirt quickly, and then laying his collar flat. It was flannel, but it was all they had that was warm, and Hannibal would have to make do.

“A shame, the peace and quiet was helpful,” Hannibal sighed and slipped his shoes on, then shrugged a jacket on over his shoulders and turned to say goodbye to Chiyoh. “Thank you, Chiyoh, you are as many believe guardian angels should be, and never are.”

Chiyoh smiled, so subtly that it was more a warming of her eyes than anything else. “Even demons require them, from time to time.”

Will found gloves in a drawer and handed them to Hannibal, reaching between him and Chiyoh to do so, not in the mood to stand idly around while Jack could be on his way now. Working outside of his territory meant that Jack likely would do what he should done years ago.

“I’ll go warm up the car,” Will murmured, grabbing both packs, he shrugged them over his shoulder and left the cabin out into the snowy tundra.

“I’ll be right behind,” Hannibal promised, and pulled his gloves on, then followed Will, still obliged to walk slowly through the high drifts of snow. Wind whistled through the trees. It was cold enough outside that metal felt flimsy to the touch, brittle and on the verge of snapping. 

Hannibal let himself into the car they’d acquired, and leaned back against the seat with a last look at the cabin in the passenger side mirror. “There’s no time like the present, and no rest for the wicked, I’m afraid.”

“We knew this day would come eventually,” Will said, hot air on full, defrost going to get the car moving. “Hoping we’d make it until the snow melted but, well…” He huffed,  gloved hands tight against the wheel as the ice started to melt off the windshield. He gave one look back at the cabin, sure that Chiyoh would do as she promised and dispose of anything that might look as though they had been there.

Chiyoh closed the door, and began her task as even more snow began to fall from the sky, like flour sifted onto a counter in preparation for work. 

“Do we have a plan, besides run?” Hannibal inquired, softly, and turned his head to look at Will.

“We head south, from there we can buy a boat,” Will answered, finally putting the car into drive, setting off for the border back into the United States. “I’ll have to adapt different names, different lives, looks…”

“How shall we manage the border, Will?” Hannibal asked, with a raise of his faint eyebrows as the car began to move. The chilly air, even in the car made his cheeks pink, as well as the tip of his nose.

“I’m open to suggestions, but ditching the car before hand will have to happen, it’s stolen,” Will explained, though he was sure Chiyoh informed Hannibal of that tidbit.

Hannibal had not been conscious for most of their journey to the cabin, when he had been conscious, he was certainly not lucid. He managed a little smile at Will. proudly. “We have no documents … how did you manage to get us across in the first place?”

“Lots of sneaking around,” Will said, but honestly, he hadn't been much better off than Hannibal, just very different injuries. “Chiyoh, mostly. I told her where we could go, and that I knew someone here that could help. She managed.”

“She has a way of facilitating the difficult,” Hannibal said, and closed his eyes for a moment, leaning his head back against the seat. He opened his eyes after a moment, looking at the glove box. “Did she say she would help us establish new identities?”

“I’d have to say she did.” Will looked at Hannibal and then the road again. Chiyoh only said to Will what was needed, and that wasn’t much.

Hannibal leaned forward and opened the glove compartment, then smiled to himself as he pulled out a medium sized envelope, and opened it to find two passports, missing only the photos. “Nearly complete passports, one for each of us,” he said, with a tilt of his head, and opened one to read. “Cal Roberts. I believe that’s you.”

Will quirked a brow over at Hannibal. “They aren’t complete. I guess we’re going to have to stop somewhere mid way and figure out our new looks.”

“I could tint my hair darker, I suppose,” Hannibal reasoned, and stole a glimpse of himself in the passenger side mirror. He might look younger with it, after all.

"I’m thinking a little more growth and leaving it silverish. You could shave but leave the mustache. You’d look very different,” Will offered, grabbing his phone from his pocket and handing it to Hannibal. “See if you can find anything near the border for us to stop in for a night.”

“Mustache?” Hannibal asked, with a wrinkling of his nose, obviously not fond of the idea at all. 

“Would you rather be caught?” Will dropped the phone into Hannibal’s hand.

Hannibal caught the phone, and gave Will a look. “I think we both know the answer to that,” he murmured, and began to look for a place. “There is a major city just south of here, several reputable five star hotels…”

“We’re not staying in a five start hotel. Look for a two star or below,” Will said, plainly. Hannibal had ideas about what he thought was low key, but Will knew after the last time, they had to be safer than luxurious.

“Two? Two stars will barely guarantee sheets on the bed,” Hannibal protested, huffily.

“Two stars will guarantee we aren’t caught on to,” Will retorted. “We have cash, anything more than two stars will only take deposit with a credit card. So, until we get that situated, and our looks different, we can’t risk it, Hannibal.”

“Why not just sleep in the car, then?” Hannibal asked, archly, as he shifted his lips, obviously irritated by the suggestion that they sleep in some …  _ motel. _

“Can, if you’d like to freeze to death.” Will set his jaw, hands gripped tight on the steering wheel as they made their way through the snowy land. “We need a spot to figure out pictures for the passports, too.”

“Easy enough, if we head south, to the city,” he said, and kept searching for hotels on the phone, with thin-lipped irascibility. “Three stars…” he suggested, “and ... “ Hannibal took a breath, “ _ family _ oriented. I believe it has a water slide. Surely that will be enough?”

“Read me some of the reviews,” Will suggested, and shook his head. “Who needs a water slide when it’s freezing out?”

“Why must you hear the reviews? You don’t trust me, Will? Are you afraid I might try to book something comfortable?” Hannibal asked, with an air of offence.

“Just put it in the GPS for directions,” Will murmured, eyes only on the road now as it started to get dark out and the lights weren’t nearly enough to see very clearly.

Hannibal did as Will asked, and then used the phone to look up a few other things. “How do you propose you’ll alter your appearance for our journey back into the bowels of your native land, Will?”

“Different. So, I’ll cut my hair, shave… the opposite of you,” Will said, still sticking to Hannibal having facial hair, it was going to be the only way.

“You’re going to cut your hair?” Hannibal asked, with a frown. “How short?”

“I don’t know yet. Until I can’t recognize myself, I guess,” Will shrugged, the dimming lights casting shadows over his cheeks and strong jaw, the scar still very evident where the Dragon had gouged his face, leaving Will without a tooth there in the end, and severe infection that was just now healing up. His shoulder mended fine, luckily.

“Clean-shaven? No glasses?” Hannibal asked as he took the chance to stare at the side of Will’s face as they drove. Since the fall, since he’d woken in the cabin, Will had been … distant, carefully so.

Will nodded slowly, eyes on the road. It’s not like he needed the glasses much anyway. “Better to draw attention away. If Jack has his way, we’ll have likenesses of us on wanted posters.”

“Perhaps makeup, a false nose …” Hannibal said, contemplatively. “There’s surely a theatrical supply shop in the city, it has an opera house, after all.”

“For you or for me?” Will asked, brow raised. “Look it up.”

Hannibal watched Will as he drove, observing his profile against the navy blue sky streaked with the white of snowflakes as they sped down the road. “Perhaps you are more easily disguised with nothing, save a change in attitude, Will. I barely recognize you from before our fall,” Hannibal said, pointedly, but softly.

“Disappointed?” Will asked, jaw shifting as he kept his eyes on the road, gloved hands clenched a little tighter.

“Is that what you hope, Will?” Hannibal asked, with infuriating calm, and a psychiatrist’s talent for deflection.

“No,” the brunet admitted, though honestly still confused with what to do with himself around Hannibal now, it was easier to deny as he had done for years. “Did you find a costume shop?”

Hannibal swallowed lightly, and returned his attention to the phone as Will slid another wedge between them, burying the impulse to acknowledge that the moment on the cliff, their embrace had been real. “Yes. Not far from the hotel, thankfully, and still open this evening for another one and a half hours.”

“We’ll stop there first,” Will said, plainly, and kept driving, leaving their conversation to that. An hour in and they were pulling up to the store, which was thankfully not very busy, just the lone shopkeeper inside.

Will reached into the back to pull out money from a pack and then tugged his beanie on further over his hair and ears. He got out, snow crunching fresh under his boots as he paced around the car to Hannibal’s door and held it open for him, one hand out to help.

Hannibal stepped out of the car, without touching Will. He moved slowly, but with grace, like an injured dancer, and looked around them at the city streets before he headed toward the theatrical supply shop. 

Avoided, Will walked after Hannibal, trying not to let that sting as much as it did. He felt his heart drop into his stomach as he got the door for them, letting the once doctor enter first, and then slipped in behind him.

The only staff in the store was a young man behind a counter, obviously a student of some sort, pouring over textbooks so intensely that he barely looked up at the entrance of the two customers. “Closing in half an hour,” he reminded them, politely, and kept studying. 

Hannibal nodded, and headed into the small makeup section, browsing the prosthetic noses. “Hideous,” he murmured under his breath.

“We don’t have time to order something better on amazon,” Will noted, under his breath as well, in passing, as he looked at the make up, wondering if he could conceal the scars that gave him away.

“Two star prosthetics only?” Hannibal asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he sighed, and selected one, then some spirit gum and putty as well. He wandered to the wigs, looking them over. Thankfully, they were of much higher quality.

Will’s eyes watched Hannibal, but the younger man said nothing as picked up a concealing kit and went to pay for it, and then returned to hand Hannibal the rest of the money, he could buy whatever he wanted. “I’ll be in the car. Going to call the hotel to make sure they have vacancy.” Hannibal nodded, and accepted the cash, their fingers brushing for a second as they did. Hannibal felt himself hold his breath at the moment of contact. “I’ll be out very soon,” he said, softly, but did not look at Will.

Will made the phone call, setting a reservation and told them he’d pay in cash. After that, he sat there and waited, palm pressed to his forehead as a headache started to ebb away at him, leaning into the door. He needed the room and some water to take his pills, and he was sure Hannibal needed the same.

The door to the shop opened and Hannibal walked out slowly with two bags, then let himself into the car with carefully controlled effort. “I purchased an array of items, I’ll see what’s the most effective once we’ve checked in. Does the hotel have room?” he asked, quite certain anything with three stars wouldn’t be in high demand.

“Yeah, I booked us in,” Will said with a swallow, and ran a hand over his face and then put the car into reverse to back out of the lot. Once on the road again. “It’s just down the street?”

“Two blocks south, and then half a block north, it will be on the left-hand side,” Hannibal said, and rested one palm over his injury, able to feel it beginning to ache from his trip into the store. He suspected from what he saw and felt of it that he’d needed help, urgently, after they hit the water.

Will had made certain that he’d received it, somehow.

“Got it,” Will murmured, and drove. Finally, they arrived, and he parked in the drive, and went inside, leaving the car running so that he could check them in and then drive closer to the room door, for Hannibal’s sake. Once done, he came back out, and drove them around to another building, key card in hand.

Will got out and slung both bags over his shoulders with only a little wince, and then grabbed Hannibal’s two new bags.

“Grab the keycard, it’s in my front pocket,” Will said, having stashed it there and now his hands were full. “First floor, number 108.” Hannibal stopped short at the request, and his dark eyes slid down to the front pocket of Will’s jeans. He shifted his sharp jaw, and stepped closer to Will, nearly as close as they’d been on the cliff’s edge. Hannibal’s fingers slipped over Will’s hip through the jeans, and then into his pocket. The lining of the pocket was cotton, much thinner than denim, and Hannibal could feel heat from Will’s thigh through it, easily. 

  
He pulled the card out, and licked his lips before he used it to unlock the door, and open it.    
The room that greeted them was decorated in peach. Peach walls, peach carpeting, paler peach furniture, and a bed with a navy blue blanket over it. The smell of industrial cleaner hung heavy in the air as a noisy heater cranked hot air into the room from beneath a set of polyester drapes that failed to hide cheap, vertical blinds that clanked together like a parody of wind chimes.

“Charming,” Hannibal sighed as they stepped in. 

Will was frozen to the spot for a moment and then headed in after Hannibal setting everything down on one of the beds. “Could be worse,” he murmured, kicking the door closed again.

“Yes, we might have lost a star,” Hannibal mused as he examined the plastic coffee maker that sat next to the television, and complimentary styrofoam cups in cellophane wrapping.

Eyes keenly trained on Hannibal as he eyed up all the mundane looking commodities, Will unzipped the bags and set out all the things Hannibal bought. “Well, have at.” He tossed one of the bags of pills to Hannibal along with a big bottle of water, and then started to pop open his own, taking the course of antibiotics the doctor they had seen had given him. It’d been two months, but they’d both rather be on the safer side, and Will’s jaw where he’d been stabbed still oozed a little.

Hannibal sat on the other bed, and caught the pills and bottle of water, examining the pills before he took two, and realized that silence between them in an empty room was not the same as it had been with Chiyoh in the cabin with them. “I assume those are not your stitches in my flesh,” Hannibal began, breaking the silence after he laid back on the bed, and stretched out with a sigh of relief.

“We tried, but you got infected pretty badly. Chiyoh got us to Canada, to my cabin, and I had her call a friend of mine, a doctor. She paid him off for his silence, and he gave us enough medication to fend off what you have, and whatever I might,” Will explained, taking another long sip of water.

Hannibal considered that as he watched Will’s throat move with the swallow. “What do you remember about the fall? Did you stay conscious?”

They’d barely spoken since it happened, a lot of nothing said in eight weeks, but Chiyoh had filled the silence, at least for Hannibal, keeping him company when he was lucid. Will shook his head.

“I remember nothing after hitting icy water, and then Chiyoh pulling us out. I told her about a cabin and next thing I knew we were in it.”

So, it had been Chiyoh’s decision to save him. Not Will’s. Hannibal’s dark eyes dropped from Will’s face to his hands where they rested against his injury, spread over the painful spot. “She’s remarkably resourceful.”

Will was the one who suggested the doctor for Hannibal, but had not been able to surface long enough to save Hannibal himself before that. He didn’t think Hannibal would want excuses though, and could easily hear the disdain in his voice.

“Surprised she helped me, too. She could have left me in the ocean to drown,” Will said, pilfering through the bag to find the razor and shaving cream, and then wandered over to the sink to get started.

“She knew that is not what I would have wanted,” Hannibal said, and watched Will as he stood at the sink, on the brink of another transformation. “Though, it would have been an awkward recovery if I had died, and you had lived…”

“I’m sure she would have left me there to rot,” Will mused, lathering up his hands with the foam and then spread it over his stubbled face. “You weren’t going to die. She wasn’t sure what to do, but I had connections there, I wasn’t going to let you die.”

Hannibal substituted the elegance and comfort of a five star room for the sensual luxury of watching Will’s hands covered with foam, and the way he smoothed it over his masculine jaw. “You would have been left without any witnesses to your crimes up on the cliff,” Hannibal said, his words thick with double meaning.

“You’re more of a partner in crime than a witness,” Will retorted, almost fondly, watching Hannibal for a moment in the mirror, and then took out the fresh razor, and slowly began to drag it over his skin, swipe by swipe.

“A witness observes, a partner participates,” Hannibal agreed, and felt his lips fall open as he watched the razor skim Will’s skin, leaving it perfectly clean. “For a man so routinely covered in stubble, one might have guessed you were clumsy with a razor,” Hannibal teased.

Will’s gaze went to Hannibal’s in the mirror again. “I might not shave my face often, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t helped  _ others _ .”

Their eyes met, and for a moment, Hannibal’s orderly mind was split with a pang of jealousy at the suggestion. “Oh?”

“Yes,” was all Will said, making smooth even strokes, rinsing the blade every so often. He used to help Molly in the bath, and shave her legs for her.  Hannibal’s face remained placid, and beneath, the darkest places of his mind churned. “How intimate, like washing someone’s hair for them, there’s nothing quite like it,” he said, innocently, thinking of Bedelia’s hair against the copper tub back in Florence.

Will’s chest tightened at that, he didn’t know details, but he’d read Bedelia’s trash novel about her experience to know enough. He  rinsed the blade and moved to his left cheek, careful around the injury healing up there, but ended up nicking it anyway.

Red welled up around the tiny nick in Will’s skin, the break in his concentration, and Hannibal smirked to himself at the sight of it. “Perhaps a little more practice was necessary, after all,” he said, cooly.

Will let the cut bleed, and shaved the rest of his face and then rinsed it off, the nick at just the edge of the healing wound in his face. “Maybe next time _ you _ do it for me.”

Hannibal let his head relax a little against the pillows that were propped against the headboard. The painkillers were beginning to do their work, and he felt as though he was floating inside, pleasantly. “I imagine that used to be someone else’s job.”

“Considering I don’t shave often, no,” Will answered, rinsing his face once again, and held a little tissue to the spot until it stopped bleeding.

“One can only infer, then, that the relationship was uneven, to say the least,” Hannibal observed, as he looked up at Will, his dark eyes glittering and sharp.

“I never held her against her will,” the brunet said, and set the razor down and then wiped his face with a towel, the bleeding having stopped. He went through their bags once again and then set everything on the floor and laid down, one hand over his eyes.

“Are you suggesting I kept my wife under lock and key?” Hannibal asked, with an arch of one eyebrow. “Not everything in Bedelia’s novel was inspired by reality.”

“I’m well aware of her trash,” Will murmured, kicking off his weather proof boots over the side of the bed. “But she insists you were her jailer.”

“And therein rests the difference between participation and observation. One version of the truth absolves her of criminal wrong doing, the other does not cast quite so flattering a light on the  _ former _ Mrs. Fell,” Hannibal said, knowingly.

“Convenient for her,” Will murmured, his other hand resting on his stomach, shirt riding up just a little over his belly, showing a sliver of skin and scar.

“Quite, as was the suggestion that I was the one who kept her drugged,” Hannibal said with a laugh at the thought, “and that I forced her to board the plane with me. The truth, particularly in that matter, is a different animal all together. I was the one at gunpoint.”

“You failed to mention any of that at your trial,” Will said, suddenly at peace, talking to Hannibal as they used to, though the topic completely different now.

“Reducing my sentence was never what I desired from the trial, nor was imprisoning her with me. I was … “ Hannibal considered his choice of words, “equal parts indifferent and amused when it came to Bedelia.”

“I was almost upset you didn’t eat her,” Will sighed, rolling to his side to look over at Hannibal, leaning on his palm and elbow.

“Almost?” Hannibal asked, his tone gently challenging.

“It was more fun to see the look on her face when I told her I was essentially getting you out of lock up,” Will explained.

Hannibal laughed, softly. The painkillers made the sound a little more playful than usual. It was the way he laughed, only around Will. “I imagine she did not take the news well.”

“She didn’t.” Will sighed, his stomach growling. He sat up and pulled out the delivery menu. They had not eaten in hours, though they brought food, Will wanted to contain as much of it as he could, just in case.

Hannibal tilted his head at the sight of the menu, able to imagine the sort of fare it offered. “A shame there’s no kitchen.”

“Not that you’ve been up for cooking anyway,” Will pointed out, sitting up on the bed to pour over the details of the menu, a little sticky from other uses from past guests. “Diner fare or pizza.”

“I’d rather not,” Hannibal sighed, the bridge of his long, straight nose wrinkling a little at the thought.

“You would rather starve?” Will asked, brow quirked over at Hannibal. “I have smoked fish left if you’d prefer that.”

“Smoked fish would be lovely, thank you,” Hannibal said after a moment’s thought. “I’m afraid I had my fill of substandard fare under Alana’s care, the last few weeks, in particular.”

“You poor thing,” Will shook his head, and picked up the pack with all the food amenities in it, and sorted through it. He tossed a foiled wrapped package of smoked fish to Hannibal. He wouldn’t tell Hannibal the things he had been eating when completely drugged out of his mind for the last handful or more of weeks.

Hannibal looked at the fish, an eyebrow raised at the wrapped package. He set it aside. “When you order, could you ask them to send an extra plate and cutlery?” He asked, with a sigh.

Will just sighed. This was going to be a very long trip if Hannibal thought that his usual needs were going to be fulfilled as they had been for years being locked up. “The part of being on the run usually means you don’t get everything you want.”

Even still, Will picked up the phone to order a BLT, nothing fancy, and asked for the extra plate and silverware.

“I have an untraceable account in Switzerland, we don’t have to live like this,” Hannibal pointed out.

“Not living like this because we  _ have  _ to,” Will retorted, setting the phone down, it’s been a few. “We need to keep a low profile if we want to stay under the radar. Lavish things and fancy hotels isn’t staying under the radar, Hannibal. I know you don’t understand that, but you’re going to have to trust me.”

“My understanding is deeper than I think you know,” Hannibal retorted. The drugs were making his tongue a little looser. His emotions ran a little closer to his even, nearly flawless surface than they usually did. “I am well acquainted with the feeling of going without. I have three years of experience with that, before you lured me from my cage in the hopes that Francis might put an end to everything, and allow you to return to the facade of normal life with impunity.”

_ Name the bait after someone you love _ .

Will sighed, raking a hand down his face, and then stood. “I had no intentions of going back to my normal life. That was over the second I let Jack talk me into investigating the Dolarhyde’s murders.” Will picked up his coat and shrugged it on.

“I see,” Hannibal said, as he watched Will prepare to leave. “Tell me, Will, what were your intentions, in that case? For a moment, I was certain that I knew …” he held the look at Will, silent for a beat. “But the certainty has washed away, with the water of the Atlantic.”

“There was every intention of dying with you. Together,” Will said, with certainty, though even now he wasn’t sure what any of it meant. Knowing himself had always been troubling, but when with Hannibal, he always knew himself best. The few months had been rough, as Hannibal had been in and out and never lucid enough to even acknowledge Will was there most of the time, so it left the ex-agent with a lot of time to bend his own perspective and question everything.

“Death with me is preferable to life with me,” Hannibal stated, flatly, his jaw settling as he watched Will where he stood. Will had a talent for blurring himself into anything that suited his needs. He was especially talented at self-denial.

How could Will live with himself after all he’d done? Guilt weighed heavily, and in the moments before possible death he’d seen the beauty in it, and yet now that he was alive-- that they were alive-- he wasn’t sure what to do, or how to feel.  “It’s what we both deserved.”

Will took a deep breath, though no longer hungry, he opened the door to stand out and wait for the delivery person.

“Why is that?” Hannibal asked, just as Will turned away.

Will heard, but let it linger there as he paid the man and took the food and plates inside. He set the silverware on the plate for Hannibal, and then opened the foil packet with the fish and set it on there too, handing it to the other man.

“What we are is too horrible for this world,” he whispered, and set his container with sandwich on the desk.

“I think, perhaps, you’ve underestimated the world,” Hannibal said as he accepted his plate, surprised at how the weight of it registered in his wound. “A forest without wolves becomes chaos, Will.”

“Aren’t there enough wolves, even without us?” Will retorted, bitterly, shrugging his coat off one more and let it lay over the back of the chair.

“Would you rather Francis was still alive, permitted to run free and slaughter children, and their parents?” Hannibal asked, as he began to untangle the knotted threads of Will’s self-hating mind, with care.

“Of course not,” Will said, well aware this was the same way Jack had gotten him to even take the case. Things like that tainted Will’s sensitive mind easily, unable to live with himself if he knew he could do something about it.

“Was Francis so precious a human being, was he such a positive influence on the world that he did not deserve to be killed? In the same vein, was Garret Jacob Hobbs? Was Randall Tier? There are men so vile that we are as much gardeners pulling weeds from the flowerbed of humanity as we are killers, Will.”

Will’s only killings had ever been just, except perhaps Tier, which was self defense, but the man had been killing innocent people left and right. That much was true. Will’s sea-blue gaze flitted to Hannibal’s, down his face and away again, sure that’d he’d only see the truth there.

“Maybe.”

“You and I have no urge to prey upon the wholly innocent,” Hannibal pointed out, when he saw Will’s wall begin to crumble. “As one so intimately connected to nature, you can’t deny that apex predators are a necessary evil. Without my dinners, Baltimore would have been a much cruder place, without our interference, lesser predators devour the flock. It is said that evil flourishes when good men do nothing, I would argue that evil also thrives when those capable of brutality  _ and _ compassion do nothing.”

“Society doesn’t view it that way anymore, Hannibal,” Will said quietly, sliding down into the chair he had his hands on, no longer especially hungry for the food he’d had delivered. Hannibal was right though, bad people didn’t always get what they deserved, and like Chiyoh’s captive, some people definitely deserved it.

“Tell me, Will, when did you begin to care about society?” Hannibal asked, glibly, and smiled a little as Will sank into the chair. Clean-shaven, Will’s expressive face seemed even more expressive, and slightly more vulnerable when it was perfectly smooth.

“Since we’ve had to hide ourselves from it,” Will whispered, leaning into an unturned hand, elbow against the arm chair. His face felt strange naked like this, and he could feel Hannibal’s eyes on him.

“There is a difference between hiding ourselves from society, and hiding ourselves in society,” Hannibal said, softly, and could not stop one hand from reaching out a little, toward Will. “You simply propose that we hide in a much different society than I prefer … which  _ could _ be shrewd,” Hannibal admitted, reluctantly. “Jack is hardly about to search every-” Hannibal looked at the bedside table for the name of the hotel, “Express Morning Inn for us.”

“He knows where you’ll be, he knows where I’ll be. We have to choose the mundane, not the lavish, but not the… pits,” Will agreed, watching Hannibal, and being unable but to get to his feet, and sit at the end of his bed.

Hannibal’s eyes warmed, going from deep brown to amber when Will moved closer, and he smiled a little. “A compromise would be worth it if we have a life at the end of it,” Hannibal said, honestly. Especially when Will wasn’t cold toward him, it was easy to admit to himself that there was not much he would not be willing to do without for Will.

“We need to blend in though, even still, no five stars…” Will said with a little hesitation, but then Hannibal gave him  _ that _ look, and Will even smiled a little for the first time in what felt like forever-- since the cliff.

“No five stars,” Hannibal agreed, with a little nod, “this will be a three star escape,” he said, with a charming gleam in his eyes and a smile.

“Three stars,” Will agreed, smiling a little more at the silliness of it all, but they did have to be safe. Without his beard, his laugh lines were more prominent, deeply grooved around his lips, but boyish just the same.

Hannibal stared, and felt his heart race a little at Will’s smile. Will’s face was a masterpiece, and always had been no matter how shoddily he treated it, or how many scars he had. He had an incorruptible beauty that Hannibal had never seen on anyone else before, or since, they’d met. “How is your cheek? I haven’t had a chance to have a look at it.”

“It’s healing,” Will said, not about to tell Hannibal the gruesome tale of the root that had to be extracted without any pain killers, from the doctor they’d been under care of, let alone the infection that had settled into it, but was well on the way out.

Hannibal gestured for Will to come closer so that he could inspect it, and moved over on the bed, to make room. Will scooted closer, the wound was healing over, save for where he’d nicked earlier, but that scabbed up already, only oozing a bit.

Hannibal touched the side of Will’s jaw, very gently, and looked at the incision under the cheap lamp light of the hotel room. “Rather large stitches …” he tutted, and took a breath, then paused. “Are you on anti-biotics?”

“Yes,” Will said, with a held breath.

“How are your teeth?” Hannibal asked, able to smell infection, and it was not coming from the cut itself. His hand still lingered on Will’s jaw, palpating gently for tender spots along the bone.

Will winced as pain shot through the spot, the bone of the jaw had been nicked, the nerves severed on the tooth itself that was now gone, but it was hardly healing well over the last few months. “Middle molar is gone. It had to be pulled.”

“You may have an infection in your mandible, Will,” Hannibal pointed out, and palpated the spot again, more carefully. “Osteomyelitis is rather serious.”

“I know, that’s why I’m taking the medication,” Will whispered, eyes closed as the pain shot through his jaw, nearly blinding him.

Hannibal shook his head. “What is the name of the medication?” he asked, and moved both hands to feel just under and around Will’s ears, fingertips brushing Will’s earlobes as he moved from lymph nodes to lymph nodes to see if they were enlarged.

“It’s in the bag, I don’t recall. Some common sort,” Will said, not too sure honestly, he’d taken so many different kinds over the years for various things.

“When we can, I think you will need to acquire a prescription for something stronger and more specific,” Hannibal sighed.

“Best to get that now before we head back into the States,” Will murmured, running his tongue over the spot where his tooth used to be, and admittedly it tasted none too pleasant.

“Unless your other physician friend is still available, I’d see someone in the states. It’s far less remarkable to be uninsured across the border,” Hannibal pointed out, and watched Will’s jaw, able to tell his tongue was moving into the hollow spot.

Will nodded, he wouldn’t disagree right now. He nodded toward the fish. “You should eat.”

“We both should, are you having difficulty chewing?” Hannibal asked, with genuine concern.

“I can chew on the other side,” Will said, shifting to his feet to grab the container with his sandwich,which he popped open. Already cut in half luckily, he bit into it on the other side of his mouth.

Hannibal had to admit, he didn’t have much of an appetite at all, but tried some of the fish with a fork, eating small pieces, slowly. “I don’t remember anything beyond vague images of Chiyoh leaning over my bed for the last two months,” he admitted.

“She did a lot of your care when the doctor was gone, she wouldn’t let me near you, but then again, I was a little out of it for a while, too,” Will explained between slow chews, and offered Hannibal half of his sandwich if he preferred.

Hannibal hesitated, but then accepted the sandwich, and put it on his plate before trying a bite. It was … precisely what he expected. “She’s rather protective.”

“I figured that out when she pushed me off a train,” Will said, and knew Hannibal wouldn’t like the sandwich, but they both had to eat something.

“You survived, nicely,” Hannibal said with a little smile that was nearly hidden in the tawny and gray beard that had grown in over the last two months.

“That I did.” Will finished the half of sandwich, and set the container into the garbage.

“I should shave,” Hannibal said, after taking a few more bites of the sandwich. He hadn’t even looked at himself in a proper mirror yet, not since before their fall, anyhow. He was vaguely aware that he looked homeless.

“Keeping a mustache?” Will asked with a little grin, reaching over to brush crumbs from Hannibal’s beard. “What was the name given on your passport?” Hannibal hadn’t said, after all.

“Elias Thanatos,” Hannibal said with a sigh, and ran his hand over the thick beard and mustache that had grown in. “I am not at all fond of mustaches.”

“I think you’d be pretty unrecognizable with one,” Will offered, but he was done trying to force anything on Hannibal, as it seemed the other man only pushed for the opposite even harder. “Very distinguishing.” 

Hannibal sighed, and got out of bed, very, very slowly, then walked to the sink and mirror that Will used earlier and looked at himself with a shake of his head. “I’ve never been so overgrown.”

“You’ve also never been so injured,” Will pointed out, going to lock the top lock on the door and then started to dress down, starting with the gun in his pants, which he sat on the nightstand.

Hannibal splashed water on his face after unbuttoning the flannel shirt he wore, which was uncomfortably warm, and then began to lather the foam over his beard before he selected a razor and did his best with it. “A shame we don’t have a straight razor.”

“We’ll find one later,” Will said, agreeing to get Hannibal something he wanted. He stripped from his own flannel shirt to his undershirt, and then down to his boxers, before padding over to Hannibal, hand out for the razor. “Do you trust me?”

Hannibal looked at Will in the mirror for a moment, and then turned to present the razor to him. “Most of the time,” he jested, softly, never so aware of the way the skin on Will’s shoulders looked before. He had not seen Will in a state of undress for years.

“I won’t hurt you,” Will promised, hopping up onto the counter, and spread his legs  to accommodate Hannibal between them, and then touched the underside of his chin softly, and began to shave one side of his face, slowly.

Hannibal stepped closer, and closed his eyes as Will touched his chin and shaved him, very slowly. “At this point I have half a mind to wonder if you insist on shaving everyone with whom you cohabitate,” Hannibal whispered, wryly.

“If you’re going to make rude remarks, I can’t promise not to slip,” Will mused back, dryly, rinsing the blade and then going in for another few strokes.  
“Was that rude?” Hannibal asked, innocently, as he raised his chin a little for Will, eyes still closed as he enjoyed the intimate feeling.

“You said it without rudeness, but usually that means you meant it more so,” Will explained, still very careful. “I know you.”

“You do know me,” Hannibal admitted, and opened his eyes to look at Will. “No one in their right mind could deny that much.”

“You know me better than I know myself,” Will admitted, with a little swallow, though he knew he could surprise Hannibal, the doctor was never far behind in figuring out  _ why _ Will had done something. Will’s eyes were concentrated on Hannibal’s face as he carefully shaved, leaving a mustache for now, until Hannibal said otherwise.

Hannibal tilted his head as needed for Will to work, moving slowly to reveal new angles and facets of his striking face to Will’s gaze and touch. “To be fair, there are times you do not know yourself well, at all,” Hannibal pointed out, gently.

“How can I know myself when I’m constantly taking in feedback from others?” Will explained, quietly, admitting to the problem. It had been very easy to fall in line with Molly, simple and sweet.

“You must look at what it is you are hiding, consistently,” Hannibal said, as he turned his face again to make Will’s work easier, “whatever it is you do not say around most people, whatever impulses you deny yourself the most frequently is what is bubbling inside, beneath the acrobatics of your malleable identity. That is you.”

“I wanted run away with you, and now I finally have,” Will whispered, finishing up. “Did you want the mustache or not?”

“Leave the mustache,” Hannibal said, softly, almost breathless from Will’s last sentence, and touched the side of Will’s waist with one hand, hesitantly.

“Okay,” Will replied, and set the razor down, he grabbed a wet cloth and wiped the excess shaving cream off Hannibal’s smooth face, softly, save for a patch of hair across his upper lip.

“Do I look entirely unlike myself? Someone who would not warrant a second glance?” Hannibal asked, well aware that his looks attracted a certain amount of attention, and that attention at this stage in their escape could be dangerous.

“Not yet,” Will admitted, quietly, looking Hannibal’s face over slowly, eyes lingering on his mouth.

“We’ll have to do something about that,” Hannibal said, softly, his eye tracking Will’s. “Shall we look at what I found earlier?” he asked, nodding to the bags on the bed.

Will broke his gaze to glance at the bed and then nodded, still on the counter with Hannibal between his legs. “Yeah…”

Hannibal looked at himself in the mirror, and sighed at the mustache, which he thought made him look bad enough, then got the bags and emptied them on the counter. “A couple of wigs, noses …“

Will went through the noses as he sat there, holding each one up to Hannibal with cringing smile. “These are terrible.”

“They’re … hardly going to be flattering but I think that could be the point,” he said, resigning himself to the fact, his vanity crushed at the idea.

“It would help, that’s true,” Will agreed, taking the wig and helping Hannibal into the curly thing. “This isn’t terrible.”

“You and I have different definitions of terrible,” Hannibal muttered, but bowed his head to let Will wrangle his ashy, silky hair into the wig that was the same color, but definitely a different style.

“You are looking more and more  as I think ‘Elias’ should,” Will admitted, cheekily, fixing the wig and then combing it down a bit with his fingers.

“What a relief,” Hannibal said, dryly, and then looked at himself in the mirror, frowning. “This hair is ridiculous.”

Will laughed for what was probably the first time in a long, long time. “Yeah, it sort of is.”

Hannibal gave Will a look, but was unable to scold him for laughing. “Are my looks sufficiently ruined? Or must we resort to prosthetics?” he asked. He turned his head, and the light from the overhead pendant caught his cheekbone, making it shine.

“They aren’t yet,” Will admitted, stroking his fingers down Hannibal’s face once on one side, over his high cheek bones.

Hannibal went very still, and felt blood pool under Will’s touch as he took a deep breath. “Was that a compliment?”

“Yes,” Will whispered, sighing deeply, and then put one of the noses over Hannibal’s, cocking his head to the side.

“Thank you, in that case. I’m not sure that’s ever happened before,” Hannibal teased, softly, and let Will evaluate the disguise.

“What? Getting a compliment? I’m sure you get plenty.” Will fit the other nose. “This one’s more believable, I think.”

Hannibal took the nose from Will and set about attaching it to his face with spirit gum. “I meant from you.”

“Oh.” Will’s flushed a little, watching Hannibal’s fingers move almost expertly.

Once the nose was attached, Hannibal used putty to smooth out the edges, “I would have noticed.”

“Do I apologize?” Will asked, almost teasingly, unaware that Hannibal, perhaps, wanted idle comments concerning his looks from Will.

Hannibal shot Will a look, and sighed as he began to blend the nose with a shade of makeup that matched the rest of his skin, a golden beige. “If insincere apologies are what I was after, I could find that anywhere…”

“Do I actually need to apologize for not complimenting your looks?” Will asked, brows furrowed now.

“Of course not,” Hannibal said, as he worked. “Others are more than obliging.”

Rolling his eyes, Will slipped down between Hannibal and the counter, and then past him. “I’ll apologize for not apologizing, or giving compliments where due.”

“Much appreciated,” Hannibal said, once Will was past him, and stared for a moment, before he blended the rest of the prosthetic in, so that it looked like part of his face, then stared at himself in the mirror with a heavy sigh. “I think we’ve found Elias, and he is an unfortunate looking man.”

“Unfortunate is better than well off,” Will said, running a hand through his hair, untangling a few curls.

Hannibal turned to face Will, obviously not thrilled about his decidedly unglamorous disguise. “Meanwhile, you still look like yourself. Would you care to borrow a spare nose and join me in my state of homeliness?”

Will casted a look at Hannibal. “I was considering it, and shaving my head down to a military cut maybe?”

The thought seemed to pain Hannibal a little, but he knew Will’s curls were so uniquely beautiful that anyone would remember them. “A shame, but they will grow back,” he mused, mournfully.

“They will,” the empath promised, giving Hannibal a slight smile over his shoulder as he checked a phone directory for a barber shop he could find nearby to see in the morning about that. Something quick.

Hannibal considered keeping one of Will’s curls, if he could, but as he said, it would grow back. “A shame we don’t have clippers here, the less you’re seen as yourself, the better.”

“Maybe there’s a drug store near by?” Will said as he sat down on the edge of the bed to look for that instead. It’d be faster, and he could keep his hair trimmed that way until they were out of sight again.

“I could go, like this,” Hannibal offered. He was in pain, but the pills were helping. 

Will froze, looking at Hannibal, some sort of anxiety about letting Hannibal go clenching his chest. “You’re sure?”

“How far is the shop?” Hannibal asked, and found his jacket, shouldering it on slowly. It would be a good test of his new face, after all.

Will took a deep breath and pulled up directions on the phone. “About two blocks.” He handed the phone to Hannibal and the keys to the car. “Unless you plan to walk.”

“I will drive,” Hannibal said, and took the keys as he zipped the warm jacket up. “Is there anything else I should look for while I’m out?”

Will pulled money from an envelope in the bag and handed that to Hannibal as well. “Anything you think we might need. A camera? Have to finish these passports somehow.”

“We can have photos done tomorrow in disguise somewhere official,” Hannibal said as he took the cash, pocketing it neatly. “Better that than to have a roll of what appears to be fake passport photos developed somewhere,” he noted, and opened the door to admit a gust of freezing air. He looked back at Will, thoughtfully, “I’ll let you know if anyone asks why I’m so ugly.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Will said and touched Hannibal’s arm gently, squeezing his bicep before letting go. “How long do I give you before I come looking?”

Hannibal smiled a little at the affectionate touch, and considered the question. “Twenty minutes, I’m certain I’ll be back before then.”

“Okay,” Will said with a nod, jaw shifting. “I’ll try not to worry too much.”

Hannibal chuckled at that, and let himself out. It was touching to see Will concerned about him, of course. Hannibal was far from used to that, the last time Will had been concerned had been when Tobias had come to his office. He let his mind linger on that memory, fusing it with the present moment as he drove to the shop Will suggested.

Will waited, twenty minutes in, he started to get dressed, jeans and shirt, then his jacket, gun in the back of his pants…

The door opened, and Hannibal walked in with a bag in hand, his eyes meeting Will’s. “Twenty minutes already?” he asked, noting the way Will was arming himself. Hannibal closed and locked the door behind him, and set the bag down on the nearest table.

One minute after twenty. Will set the gun back and tried to muster a smile but it felt false as worry etched across his now smooth features. “Yeah….”

“My apologies, I had neither watch nor phone,” Hannibal said, and removed his jacket slowly. “My disguise is an unqualified success. I was virtually invisible.”

“We’re good to go for the morning then, where you’re concerned,” Will said with a little smile, his guard slipping down just a little bit, but his heart was still pumping hard.

Hannibal set the jacket aside, still moving carefully, and carried the bag to Will, able to tell from the hammering in his throat that he had been alarmed. He touched the side of Will’s arm to reassure him. “Everything went just as we hoped,” he said, softly, and breathed slowly to encourage Will to breathe with him. Will was adept at mirroring, Hannibal was well aware of how to calm his nerves.

Will’s eyes wandered Hannibal’s face, down his body, making sure everything was as fine as the doctor said he was, and then he nodded. “Okay.” He took the bag and the clippers out of it, reading over the directions. “Looks easy enough.”

Hannibal nodded, and pulled a small bottle from the bag. “Clove oil, for your missing tooth. It’s not much, but it will help numb the area and fight some of the superficial infection until we are across the border.”

“Thanks,” Will said, taking that too from Hannibal with a tired smile. He dressed down again, this time to just his boxers, no shirt, and went to stand over the garbage can to let the shaved off hair fall into it.

Hannibal was sweating from the warm jacket, and undid his flannel shirt, distracted by the sight of Will in nothing but his underwear. “If you sit in a chair, I could do that for you.”

“It’s not too much for you?” Will asked, contemplating it as he scooted the trash over to the chair at the desk instead, and took a seat.

“As long as you sit down, no,” Hannibal said, and moved closer to Will to take the clippers, inspecting them like operating room equipment before he reached out and touched Will’s angelic curls. “This is … painful. You have the curls of Michelangelo’s David.”

“It’ll grow back,” Will said, heat radiating from Hannibal’s palm, near Will’s own cheek, was almost enough to make the brunet lean into it.

“A sacrifice for our escape,” Hannibal murmured, and let his palm touch the side of Will’s cheek, very gently. “You’ll let them grow again, once we’ve settled somewhere safe?” Hannibal asked, pointedly, reluctant to cut them.

Will’s breath caught in his throat, as it had a few times in the past when Hannibal touched him like this, only now he was ever aware of their closeness, of what they had done, and his growing feelings he had yet to come to term with. “Of course.”

Hannibal let his fingers brush through Will’s curls again, and he nodded. “Very well,” he sighed, and turned the clippers on, then touched the side of Will’s neck. “Tip your head forward, please.”

Will tipped his head forward as asked, chewing his bottom lip slightly, Hannibal’s touch was warm and soothing, as it had always been.

Hannibal slipped the clippers up the back of Will’s skull, which caused soft, brown curls to rain down over Will’s back as they were cut free. He worked in sections, carefully, and used his hands to brush over the newly short, soft parts, brushing away anything the clippers left in their wake. 

He tipped Will’s head back, carefully, and finished at the front, then smoothed his hands over Will’s face after setting the clippers down. “You barely look like yourself,” he said, with a sad little smile.

Will canted his head back further to look at Hannibal behind him, brows quirked up. “That’s what we wanted,” he sighed, feeling naked now without his mane of curls covering his head. The scars on his face were much more noticeable now.

Hannibal touched Will’s short hair with one hand, “on the other hand, it feels like velvet.”

Will smiled a little more, his eyes more expressive when not caught under the heavy blanket of curls. “You’ll never stop touching it now.”

Hannibal smiled at that, still running his hands over Will’s shorn head. Will’s eyes were almost alarmingly luminous now without the distraction of his mop of hair. “Would you like me to?”

“No,” Will whispered, hands spread palm down against his bare thighs as their eyes met.

Hannibal swallowed, staring, and felt his heart begin to beat high up, in his throat. For just a moment, there was a flicker of what they had on the cliff, before the fall. “I’ve never had my hair that short, how does it feel?”

“Cold,” Will sighed with a slightly bigger smile, just a sliver of white teeth showing past pink, weather worn lips. His guard was falling again, every defense was going right back to where it had been as they fought the dragon; the most open Will had ever been about himself.

“A shower would be wise, you’re covered in shorn hair,” Hannibal said, with a soft sigh, and brushed a few hairs from Will’s cheek with his thumb. They felt intimate like this, the nearly psychic understanding back, at least for the moment.

Will nodded, agreeing, leaning his cheek into Hannibal’s palm briefly, and then stood. “Good idea,” he said, brushing some of the hair off his shoulders and chest into the garbage, but most of it just stuck to him. “I’ll be out in a bit.”

Hannibal nodded, staring at Will before he brushed a hand over his shoulder, slowly. “I’ll be here.”

“I hope so.” Will grabbed a towel from the clean stack and then went into the bathroom, shutting the door but didn’t lock it. There was enough trust here he didn’t feel the need to.

Hannibal sighed, and stared after Will for a long moment, then set about cleaning Will’s shorn curls off of the carpeted floor, which took more time than it should have with his injury beginning to throb, again. Finally, done, he laid on the bed to rest, and listened to the sound of water against Will’s body. 

After three years of sterile incarceration, even that much was bliss.

Half an hour later, Will came back out, towel around his hips, dirty boxers in hand, which he threw out since he had another pair and nothing to wash those with for now. He’d cleaned the way he really hadn’t been able to at the cabin for months, scrubbing completely clean.

Hannibal opened his eyes, and felt his breath stall in his throat at the sight of Will like that. Curls or not, he was utterly stunning. “Better?”

“Yeah,” Will said and sifted through one of the bags for the clean pair of boxers he had, and then put them on, pulling them up under the towel and then took it off. And folded it over a drying bar by the counter. “Give it a few minutes and you might be able to shower, if you wanted. Sponge baths only get you so far.”

Hannibal pushed himself up into sitting, and nodded, still staring at Will as he moved around the room, transfixed. “I was thinking of doing just that,” he said. Will looked like he had put on muscle, especially in his arms, and legs. “Have you taken up jogging while I was away?”

“I run,” Will explained, “I worked more with my hands. Fixing boat motors, stuff like that. More physical than I used to be.”

“Some might say that is a response to stress,” Hannibal said, and stole a glance at Will’s thighs, then his face again. Without his curls, Will’s jaw was stronger, every perfect feature shown to the world without anything to hide behind.

Will laughed almost bitterly at that. “I don’t know if it was stress…”

“A reason to get out of the house, perhaps?” Hannibal asked, as he stood, and peeled the wig off, then the fake nose, and set both on the table near the bed.

“I needed to keep busy,” Will admitted, sitting on the bed where Hannibal had been, watching him. “I had a lot to work through.”

Hannibal removed his shirt, slowly, and looked at the bandages around his torso, unwinding them. “What sort of work? Mechanics?”

“Mentally.” Will got up again and helped Hannibal with his shirt and folded it up and laid it on the bed, and then helped with the rest of the bandages.

Hannibal sighed, and let Will help with the other bandages. “Re-normalizing yourself must have been an intensive process after all you’d been through, all the madness you’d been steeped in.” Hannibal looked at the wound, healed over now, but the internal damage would take months to resolve. 

“Not sure I did that great of a job of it, but…” Will shrugged, checking over the wound. “You should be able to shower okay.”

“If you were able to live a typical life in comfort, I’m sure you would have. When I left you, you were as desperate as I’d ever seen a man to achieve normalcy,” Hannibal said, wisely, and touched Will’s arm. “A wolf who wants to be a dog is a waste of a wolf.”

Will sighed, “Yeah, I know. I was fooling myself into thinking I could do it.” And found someone to do it with, but even that crumbled quickly once everything went down. Molly had seen behind Will’s own veil, into the darkness.

“Now you know, with certainty, what you are not,” Hannibal said, and touched the side of Will’s face with his palm. “It is the first step in appreciating what you  _ are _ .”

“And what is that?” Will asked, more to hear Hannibal say the words than anything, as the warmth of his palm spread across his skin.

“A beautiful,  _ breathtaking _ monster,” Hannibal whispered, tenderly, as he curled his fingertips over Will’s skin, caressing him as they stood close to each other, bare-chested. “When angels appeared, according to the Bible, mortal men thought them monsters and reacted with terror. I find you  _ angelic _ .”

“An angelic monster?” Will asked, the heat of their bodies was almost too warm now despite how little they were wearing, causing Will to breath a little shallower. “Precisely,” Hannibal whispered back, sincerely. “A perfect paradox, much like a doctor capable of murder,” he reasoned, and let his hand fall before he walked to the bathroom.

Will hummed, and watched Hannibal go, “Don’t forget a towel,” he said, and then crawled into his bed, warmer there now that the heat from being next to Hannibal was gone.

The shower started, and ran for a little while until it went cold. Will was right, sponge baths were only so effective.    
  
Hannibal walked out, towel around his hips, hair combed into place. “Three stars or not, that was a divine experience,” he said, and laid in his bed, his golden skin flushed all over. All traces of his disguise were gone now, washed away, and only Hannibal remained.

“You look relaxed,” Will offered, glancing over at Hannibal.

“I am relaxed,” Hannibal agreed, and stretched out, letting himself dry after the hot shower. His chest hair was thick, much more full of silver than it used to be, as it dried.

“I bet a shower without someone watching is nice, too,” Will noted,  trying not to stare openly at Hannibal, but he was starting to find himself drawn in like a moth to flame all over again.

“Have I taken a shower in the last two months? If not, I apologize for the assault on your sense of smell,” Hannibal jested.   
  
Of course, he didn’t have cologne here, the only scent left on Hannibal was that of his own, warm skin.

“Like I said, sponge baths,” Will chuckled, breathily, and leaned over turned out his side of the light. “Chiyoh would wash your hair in the sink.”

“I have a feeling I would never miss those memories,” Hannibal chuckled, and laid on his good side, facing Will, as he got under the covers. “Did you watch?”

“Her wash your hair?” Will asked, pulling the covers just to his waist, rolling to watch Hannibal, like young boys at a sleep over.

“Anything? Did you look in on me, while I slept?” Hannibal asked, laying just the same way as they spoke. They looked like mirror images of one another.

“Yes. When I wasn’t passed out from my own injuries, so for the past few weeks at least, yeah, I checked in on you,” Will said, a slight drawl to his tone as sleep started to tear into his eyes.

Will’s accent was soft, and unusual, and something Will usually did his best to hide around most people. Hannibal was pleased to hear it. “Part of me is very surprised that you stayed, to be honest … and immensely relieved.”

Will smiled, eyes drooping a little. “Where would I go?” he asked, very softly.

“Wherever you wanted, without me,” Hannibal whispered, and felt himself struggle not to fall asleep. He wanted to keep talking to Will, just a little longer.

“Not worth it, Hannibal. We’d still find each other,” Will whispered back, honestly.

“We would,” Hannibal whispered, as his eyes grew too heavy to stay open, and finally closed, Will following right along with him.


	2. Chapter 2

The sun woke Will early the next morning, beaming in through the window. He rolled over in bed and covered his eyes, not yet quite ready to face the day ahead of them, though in the back of his mind he knew they would need to get a headstart.   
  
Hannibal was still sleeping, draped in the cheap hotel sheet from his waist down. He looked like some sort of renaissance painting, his skin a tawny beige against the white of the sheets. He took a deep breath, and sighed it out in his sleep as the sun lit the side of his elegant face.

Once Will decided to get out of bed, he watched Hannibal for a moment and then made his way to the bathroom. He got out a minute later and started to get dressed, and packing up their things.

Hannibal stirred a little in his sleep, and opened his eyes to look at Will’s empty bed. A moment’s panic rushed through him before he heard movement, and turned very slowly to look toward the bathroom. 

Will hadn’t left. He was still here.  Hannibal stretched like a cat, and leaned back against the headboard, the familiar sensation of pain washing through him as he listened to the comforting noise of Will packing things away for them. “For how long have you been awake?” he asked, in a deep, uncharacteristically rough voice.

“About half an hour,” Will said, looking over at Hannibal with a smile as he pushed the clippers into one of the backpacks, and then tossed Hannibal his clothes. “We should get going as soon as we can, Jack’s probably gained on us a bit.”

“Knowing Jack, that’s very possible,” Hannibal sighed, and turned his body to put his feet on the floor. He managed the trousers with a little effort, and stood to fasten them, then put a shirt on, buttoning it. “Not to mention I have to put my face on,” Hannibal muttered, looking at his wig and nose with disdain.

Will smiled and gave Hannibal’s shoulder a little squeeze, reassuring him it was fine. “Lucky I know what you look like under it already.”

Hannibal heaved a sigh, but let his free hand trace it’s way over Will’s waist as he took his disguise toward the bathroom. “Otherwise you might never look at me twice?” Hannibal asked, and stepped into the bathroom to begin the task of rendering his remarkable face plain.

Will rolled his eyes but smiled. “I might, you still have those unmistakable cheekbones.”

Hannibal turned his head back to look at Will at the compliment, and had to stop short to avoid running into the door frame. He recovered quickly, a little flushed, and then splashed some water over his face, unable to stop himself from smiling. “Is that all it takes? Cheekbones? I could have spared myself hours of grooming before our appointments.”

“They are only a fraction of what makes you,” Will explained with a chuckle, shaking his head as he put his gun into his pants once more along with his wallet and everything else. “Hours?”

Hannibal looked up at Will in the bathroom mirror, torn between his creeping suspicion that this was flattery, and the racing of his heart. “Cumulatively, yes,” Hannibal admitted. “I’ve always enjoyed taking care with my presentation, of course, but I found myself taking my grooming to an entirely different level when we began to become close,” he admitted as he fit the wig over his soft hair.

“I know all about the special grooming attempts,” Will said, setting their bags by the door. They still had to get passport photos taken.

“Do you? How many different colognes do you remember from our early days in therapy?” Hannibal asked, as he began to shave, careful to leave his horrid moustache intact.

“That you wore? Maybe five different ones… Me? Well,” Will shrugged, rubbing his now stubbly face with one hand.

Hannibal laughed to himself as he applied the false nose over his own. “One. One absolutely eye-watering cologne that I will never forget, even with therapy.”

“Oh come on, it was never that bad,” Will said, but unable to help but laugh.

“I only wish that I’d had this awful nose back then, to act as a buffer,” Hannibal teased over his shoulder, smiling to himself at the sound of Will’s laugh. It, just like any concerto, any symphony, made Hannibal aware that he was in the presence of intense beauty, no matter where they were together.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Will walked over next to Hannibal and stole the razor to shave his scruff down for the pictures. There wasn’t a lot, but he wanted to be as clean shaven as he could be.

“I might be exaggerating … slightly,” Hannibal said as he watched Will shave. Will wasn’t at all concerned about mixing their blood. They were well and truly bonded, in nearly every way. “I still prefer it to the one you wore in court.”

“That came from Wally,” Will said with a slight shrug. “Well, I think it was the intention anyway.” Honestly, Molly picked it out. Hannibal used the tiny bottle of makeup to blend his new nose in with the rest of his face, able to do so very quickly. “Fragrances are a very personal gift.”

“I used because I had it, but not always. I thought court was sort of personal,” Will said with a sly look over at Hannibal in the mirror as he shaved off every last inch of stubble.

“Everything between us is personal,” Hannibal said, as he put the makeup sponge down, and turned Will to face him, then took the razor and shaved a tiny spot Will had missed beneath his chin.

Will gazed at Hannibal with an intensity. “So it is,” he murmured, voice a whisper as it left his lips.

Hannibal set the razor down, and thumbed away a tiny streak of foam near Will’s lower lip, then swallowed as they stared at each other. “Jack is likely on his way, we should get our photos.”

“We should,” Will agreed, and wiped a hand over his face once, He moved away and got his shoes and jacket on, taking the car keys from the desk. “I’ll put the bags in the car.”

Hannibal nodded, and packed his things from the bathroom. His hands were steady, even if he felt like he was trembling inside, and breathing more quickly than usual. One last look in the mirror at ‘Elias’, and he went to the door to shoulder on his coat. “We have not yet discussed our story. Who are Cal and Elias? Why are they travelling together?”

“I was thinking something different, something I wouldn’t ever be. Like, uh… Religious leader? No one would suspect why I’m traveling with someone else, ministries and all that,” Will explain, that and Cal Roberts sounded like the name of a cult leader somewhere.

Hannibal looked intrigued at the prospect as he looked around the room for anything they may have missed. “What religion?”

Will grabbed the keycard and then walked them out to the car once again and set everything inside. “Might have to make something up.”

“Am I your … assistant, in that case?” Hannibal asked as he left the hotel room with the “please clean” sign on the door, and walked to the car to get in the passenger side.

“Do you want to be my assistant?” Will asked, closing the backseat door and then got into the driver’s seat, starting the car up. He drove it around to the front to drop off the key.

“It would be an explanation that would seem the most simple. That, or I could be a writer tasked with your biography for the sake of posterity,” Hannibal said with a slight mocking tone to his smooth voice.

“Let’s not get carried away, I’d have to be more famous and we don’t need that,” Will chuckled, and got out for a moment and then left the key at the mail slot in the door, and got back in, driving out of the parking lot, to the drug store that had the passport photo center.

“Assistant it is,” Hannibal sighed, and frowned when he caught a glimpse of himself in the passenger side mirror.

It was cold enough outside that steam rose from the exhaust pipes of cars ahead of them, swirling in the air like unsettled ghosts before they drifted upward.

“You don’t like that idea?” Will asked, glancing a look at Hannibal as he pulled into the parking lot.

“I suppose Elias is more the assistant sort than I am,” Hannibal chuckled, and exchanged a look with Will as he parked the car.

“You can be someone else, you like doing that,” Will pointed out as they got out of the car.

Hannibal got out with Will, and met him on the sidewalk. “If it serves a purpose, I’ll tolerate it.”

“I promise it will only be public,” Will explained, and touched Hannibal’s shoulder once and then lead them into the store, heading back for photo center.

Just as it had been the previous evening, no one gave Elias a second look when he entered the store. They made their way to the back of the store and waited at a counter after ringing a bell. 

“It’s astounding how different you look with only a haircut,” Hannibal mused under his breath.

"Yeah? Nothing like a on the run murderer,” Will whispered with a smile to his tone, taking off his gloves and stuffing them into his pockets.

“Not at all,” Hannibal said, “your features are more prominent without your head of curls. You look more mature.”

“Boyish before?” Will asked, head canted, and finally someone came up. “We need two passport photos taken, please.”

The man behind the counter nodded, and motioned for Elias to sit down on a stool in front of a white backdrop first while he went into the back of the store for the camera. “Softer before,” Hannibal corrected, quietly.

“And you prefer the softer,” Will said, with a little smile, hands in his pockets as they waited.

“Not at all, I’m beginning to appreciate this new look of yours,” Hannibal said, and went quiet when the photographer returned, and took a few shots of Elias without comment, then motioned for Cal to take his place.

Will went and sat Cal down into place, setting his shoulders back, hands clasped together in his lap as his pictures were taken. Then, he paid the man in cash, and waited for their pictures to print.

“What do you like about it?” Will was still trying to find what he liked himself.

“The new strength in your jawline, the light in your eyes. I’m rather fond of the expression lines across your forehead,” Hannibal confessed.

“Along with certain scars,” Will said quietly. The man set their pictures down on the counter and Will picked them up. “Thank you.”

Hannibal turned away with Will, and walked through the store with him, but guided him toward the stationary to select a strong glue with which to affix their passport photos. “I find that particular scar loaded with meaning.”

“Good thinking,” Will murmured about the glue, and when they found one went to pay for it. “Is that right?”

“The futility of attempting to separate us from one another, yes,” Hannibal murmured when they neared the till, and let his eyes linger on the scar.

Will went quiet as they paid, and then took their things and head back to the car, waiting until they were out to speak again. “The two you gave me are the most damning, I have to admit.”

Hannibal took a look up and down the street, unable to see any evidence of law enforcement around them, luckily. “I gravely underestimated the strength of our bond, both times,” he admitted, and touched Will’s cheek with his hand before going to the passenger side of the car.

Will froze to the spot a moment and then got in, starting the car up once more, to get it heated inside. “Alright, let’s put together those passports.”

“It will take approximately five minutes,” Hannibal said as he took one of the photos of himself, and spread glue on the back with meticulous care not to permit bubbles or warping.

“That's not too long. Can I drive or do you need it to be still?” Will asked, having never forged documents before.

“Driving would be fine, provided you don’t make any sudden stops,” Hannibal said with a nod as he moved the photo a few millimeters up and down to make it absolutely perfect.

Will backed out slowly, and then made his way to the main road, careful not to be too fast and to watch the stop signs.

Hannibal held his photo down until it looked perfectly bonded to the page, then did the same to Will’s photo with great care and meticulous attention to every detail. “How far are we from the border?”

“Not too far. Car is stolen, not sure if you mind walking across and then we can figure out another car,” Will said, starting to feel tension grow as they got back toward the border.

“How do we justify walking across the border with luggage, won’t that appear out of the ordinary? Perhaps we should purchase tickets as part of a bus group,” Hannibal sighed, watching a bus leave it’s depot, headed to the border. “Much less remarkable that way, I imagine hundreds of people enter the United States via buses much like those.”

“Wouldn’t seem uncommon for religious leader would it?” Will questioned, mostly to himself as he pulled into the bus depot, parked. “It’s our best option.”

“We’ll do our best to blend in,” Hannibal agreed, “and I doubt very much Jack would expect us to resort to it,” he chuckled, and took another look at Cal’s passport, from all angles. “I believe our passports are ready enough for a rudimentary check.”

Will nodded and got out of the car, pulling their bags from the back, and then took his passport from Hannibal, putting it into his coat pocket for now. “Now you’re starting to understand the sort of means I mentioned.”

“I can be taught,” Hannibal teased, and used the untucked tail of his shirt to wipe Will’s fingerprints from the steering wheel, the radio dials, and the door locks, then joined him after wiping down the door handles of the car, inside and out. It was a quickly done task, just enough to smudge evidence left behind.

One last wipe to where Will’s fingers had contacted the surface of the trunk, and Hannibal forced himself to leave his shirt untucked with a pained expression, and joined Will.

“Thanks,” Will said and touched Hannibal arm as they went to the office to buy tickets. He bought two tickets into the US, a trip that would take them down through the east coast but they could stop anywhere and get off, honestly.

Hannibal felt his skin flush at Will’s touch under the heavy flannel of the untidy shirt he wore. He turned to Will and buttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, then the buttons at the wrist of his sleeves. “Religious leader,” he murmured, “conservative is key, I think.”

Will smiled a little as Hannibal did, tickets in hand, he gave one to the other man, chin lifted as his collar was fixed. “You’re probably right. Can’t be tempting anyone.”

“Certainly not,” Hannibal chuckled with a smile, and let his fingertips brush the side of Will’s throat for just an instant as he fixed his shirt collar. “Least of all your poor, homely assistant.”

“Especially not him,” Will teased, under his breath, and adjusting on the packs on over his shoulder.

“I imagine poor Elias would be quite smitten with the very charismatic Mr. Roberts,” Hannibal whispered to Will. “The poor, ugly thing.”

“He’s not ugly,” Will whispered back, touching Hannibal’s fake nose with one finger. “I might be a bit smitten with him.”

Hannibal’s ears went red, and he took a deep breath at Will’s flirtation, his throat flushing as well, up from his chest. “If that is true, love is even more thoroughly blind than I had previously thought.”

“Love is not all about looks,” Will said, quietly, and turned to leave the building, to go wait in the terminal for the next bus.

Hannibal followed, and licked his lips as he watched Will’s back shift under his shirt. “Good looks may be the bait, but something more substantial hooks the heart, and will not let go.”

Will turned to look over his shoulder at Hannibal, no floppy curls in his eyes, just bright sea blues gazing back at him, “Have I done just that? Baited and hooked?”

“I have the scars to prove it,” Hannibal replied, hand over his heart as they moved through the terminal.

Will’s heart fluttered in ways it never had for Molly, and the thought of what that meant made him smile more, resisting the urge to reach out for Hannibal’s hand. “You’ll have to show me…”

“My heart? I’ve been showing you that for years, Will,” Hannibal replied, his voice a little closer, in Will’s ear as they walked.

Will turned his head to meet Hannibal’s eyes. “I want a more intimate look,” he whispered. “Without the facade and show.”

Hannibal walked next to Will, shoulder to shoulder, and let their fingers brush as they neared the bus. “More of what we had before we fell?” he whispered, oblivious to everything else around them as it faded into a background hum.

Will took a long, deep breath. “Yes,” he said, decidedly, sparks running up his fingers to his arms as their touches met with intention.

“That is all I’ve wanted since the moment I opened my eyes in the cabin,” Hannibal said, and curled one of his fingers over Will’s, just for a moment.

Will had admittedly been worried, and aching, himself, and in the midst of it he lost track of what he felt on the cliff, and actually thought maybe he shouldn’t have felt it at all. Being with Hannibal like this, together, on the run? He was starting to see differently. “We have time.”

They reached a benched off area and Will sat the packs down and took a seat.

Hannibal sat next to Will, just as they had shared a bench before the Primavera in the Uffizi gallery. “We will have time, provided we make it down the Eastern coast without incident,” Hannibal agreed, gazing at Will just as he had that day in Florence.

“Jack won’t think to find us backtracking where we came from,” Will offered, quietly. “And no one will know any different as we look nothing as we did.”

Hannibal swallowed, and smiled at Will, his dark eyes going soft at him as he touched Will’s jaw for a moment. “I would know this face anywhere.”

Will tipped his head into Hannibal touch and looked at him, fondly, much as he had that day in Italy, despite the reasons they were there. Neither one of them was out to kill the other this time. “I’m not trying to hide from you.”

“I’m not sure either of us could ever really hide from each other,” Hannibal murmured, and let his hand drop, conscious of not attracting too much attention to them. “In any fashion, not any longer, at least. We know the labyrinths of each other’s hearts and minds too thoroughly.”

“You saw right through me when I walked into the BSHCI,” Will murmured, keeping their voices low so no one over heard them. “I hadn’t realized how much I missed you until then.”

“You hid your wedding ring,” Hannibal murmured back, his eyes intense beneath the ridiculous wig as he looked at Will. His heart beat harder than usual, but steadily as they spoke, openly and freely.

Will showed Hannibal his hands now, no ring in sight, and from the looks of it, it had been off for a while. “Nothing to hide now.”

“Did you really believe I wouldn’t know?” Hannibal asked. He was able to remember the pain he’d hidden when Chilton came in with the news, months after Hannibal had been incarcerated. It had been a quick wedding, no doubt about that.

“No, it was easier to assume you wouldn’t,” Will quietly stated, head canted down as he folded his hands in lap.

Hannibal reached over and took Will’s left hand in his own, smiled sadly at Will’s statement, and ran his thumb over the spot where the cheap, yellow gold ring, likely from a big-box store had been. “I was informed.”

“Not surprised. They probably thought it would hurt you,” Will sighed, looking at Hannibal, keenly. “ _ Knew _ it would hurt you.”

“Frederick used it to attempt to wring some emotion out of me, something for his book,” Hannibal said with a swallow, showing far more emotion now than the brief flicker of heartbreak and rage he’d felt at the news.

Will covered his other hand over Hannibal’s in his own, looking like nothing more and perhaps a religious man offering his friend comfort. “Part of me did want to hurt you, but part of me never expected you to find out. I’m sorry you found out that way.”

Hannibal looked down from Will’s eyes, at their hands, and nodded. It had been emotional torture, and Hannibal had known at once precisely the sort of woman Will had married: pleasantly average in every way, cheerful, simple, easy going, and already equipped with a child. It was everything Hannibal knew he was not and that was precisely why Will would have chosen her. “Thank you.”

“We’ve done a lot of hurtful things to each other in the past, I’d like to start new from those,” Will offered, just between them. Molly had been what Will could find peace in, but peace was relative, after all.

Will could find peace in Molly, or anyone like her, but it would be the peace of a wild thing in a zoo. He could never truly be himself, and would always have to hide what he was in exchange for security and normality. 

Hannibal looked back up at Will from their joined hands, silent for a moment. “I promise not to exhume our past so long as it is a mutual agreement.”

“Bringing it up will only make us angry again. I think it’s best if we agree now that it’s in the past. We can’t do anything to fix it, we’re here now,” Will explained with a nod, decidedly.

“Agreed,” Hannibal said, softly, “it would become a long, bitter census of our worst, most painful moments.”

“Zero-sum game,” Will whispered and squeezed Hannibal’s hand with his own. “I’ll let it go. It’s not important now.”

Hannibal had done many, many terrible things to Will. A long list of people had told him as much, of course. Will, however, had found ways to hurt Hannibal that  _ still  _ hurt, even years after the betrayals. Physical wounds healed, the realization that Will had tricked him into trust and intimacy would never heal. “It is important, but not helpful.”

“I’ll only ever bring it up if you do,” Will promised. He knew what he had done to Hannibal, of course, but in the end he had only ever wanted to run away with him, as he, too, had been changed.

Hannibal squeezed Will’s hand in his own, and ran his thumb over a little scar on the back from a fish hook. “All is fair in love, and war,” he said, with a sad smile.

Gazing over at Hannibal, Will smiled just a little, eyes brightened up. “A little less war though.”

Hannibal laughed softly at this, and nodded, “when was it you realized that you would rather run with me than stay with your wife?”

“When I knew I couldn’t live the sort of life she wanted--that we had wanted. She got shot and she changed. I knew that nothing would fix it, nothing in my power wanted to either,” Will confessed. “I brought her into my world and she never wanted to be there.”

“She cannot survive your darkness, and you cannot hide it forever,” Hannibal said, with a look into Will’s eyes.

“Yes,” the brunet agreed, seeing only Hannibal as their eyes met and stayed there, no longer afraid to keep eye contact, especially not with Hannibal. Letting Hannibal in and reaching out, it was easy to feel his compassion for Will, and caring.

“Do you have any regrets? If you could go back, would you stay with her had she never been shot?” Hannibal asked. He needed to hear the answer, before they became any more intimately attached.

Will’s only regret was getting Molly involved with him from the start.

“No. No regrets. I knew deep down what would surface the second I took the case, the second I asked to see you, the second I named you as my bait,” Will explained, very softly now, under his breath almost.

“You knew we would end up here?” Hannibal asked with glossy eyes and a little smile that made his face strangely handsome, even with the false nose and wig.

“I had a feeling. I don’t often follow them, but maybe I should,” Will said with a soft smile. “I’d be better for it.”

“I would encourage that, as your friend, and former therapist,” Hannibal agreed, their hands still touching as they spoke, obviously oblivious to the world around them.

“Of course you would,” Will sighed, but the grin never left his face, much more expressive now without the stubble.

“Following your impulses is one way to connect to an authentic identity. The less you filter your actions and thoughts, the more honest you will become with yourself,” Hannibal pointed out.

“And we both know I’m not very good at that,” Will sighed, “good thing I have you now. Again.”

“We have time,” Hannibal said, repeating Will’s words from earlier, and laced their fingers together for a moment.

“We do,” Will agreed, with a little sigh, as they waited, hardly anyone else around them.

“Sitting on a bench with you anywhere in the world, I am transported back to the Uffizi,” Hannibal said, softly, and fondly.

“Memories of what should have been,” Will mused, their hands still very much clasped together, but only sitting as close as people of their supposed occupation might.

“What still can be,” Hannibal said, almost shyly.

“Will be.” The brunet squeezed Hannibal hand and the boarding for their bus was announced over the speaker.

Hannibal held his breath for a moment, and let himself breathe only when they realized their bus was boarding. “Shall we?”

Nodding, Will got their bags, still worried about Hannibal straining himself, and pulled out his passport and bus pass, ready to have to show them as they boarded. “Yes.”

Bright-eyed, and a little flushed, Hannibal boarded with Will, passport in hand. Their tickets were accepted, and Hannibal followed Will to their cramped seats near the back, then sat down. “Someone’s smoked here, recently.”

"Wouldn’t doubt it,” Will whispered, settling in next to Hannibal, their thighs and shoulders smushed together in the seats.

“Is this like flying coach?” Hannibal asked with a sigh as he looked around, but let his fingers brush Will’s knee with a barely perceptible smirk.

"This might be a little worse than coach,” Will chuckled under his breath. “These seats won’t sit back any, and no arm rests between us.”

“An inconvenience I’m sure I can overlook, this once,” Hannibal said under his breath, his hand resting against Will’s firm thigh.

“You suggested it.” A spike of warmth filled Will thoroughly at the touch, nerves set on fire and edge all at once. He flushed up to his almost elf-like ears. He’d been so exposed before to his emotions without his hair to hide behind.

Hannibal noticed the flush, and smiled to himself. “Is everything alright, Cal?” Hannibal asked, innocently.

“Yes,” Will whispered, turning his head to meet Hannibal’s eye as others around them started to situate, paying them no mind.

“If you’d like more room, I can move,” Hannibal offered, politely, but with a teasing gleam in his eyes.

“There’s no where to move,” Will whispered, “ _ Elias _ .”

“I suppose we’ll have to share,” Hannibal said, with a shrug, his fingers still brushing Will’s knee, which made his heart flutter.

“I think we’ll manage.” Will leaned up against Hannibal a little more, just two cozy religious men trying to get comfortable.

Hannibal could hear his heart thudding loudly and quickly in his ears as everyone settled into their seats and the bus began to.move, headed toward the border. The closest that he and Will had ever come to.this was embracing, on the cliffside. “Indeed.”

“They will likely stop the bus at the border and check passports,” Will murmured after a few minutes of silence shared between them, unzipping his coat which was growing warm with how many bodies were shoved together in such cramped space.

Hannibal did the same, and leaned over Will to stow his heavy jacket in the overhead bin, then reached for Will’s coat. “I’m sure they will. May I?”

Will lifted a little off the seat to drag his coat off and handed it to Hannibal. “Thank you.”

Hannibal took Will’s jacket and stuffed it in the overhead bin, twisted a little with one knee on the seat next to Will’s, nearly straddling him for a moment before he returned to his seat.

“You…” Will whispered, biting the inside of his cheek, touching Hannibal's hip before he sat back down. “Done?” he quirked a brow at his travel mate.

“For now,” Hannibal replied, delighted at how flustered Will had become.

Once Will allowed himself to be around Hannibal the ways he knew he should have been long ago, the empath couldn't help but be flustered by something so simple and innocent. “Good.”

“I’m glad we got seats together, I’d hate to be this close to a complete stranger,” Hannibal said, as he sat down again, their arms touching from the shoulder to elbow this time.

“I’m sure you’d make sure we got sit together somehow, even if you had to bribe a few people to move,” Will said with a little smile, brows upturned toward Hannibal, amused.

“I’m quite persuasive when I need something,” Hannibal said, as he gazed adoringly at Will, utterly smitten with him as daylight shone through the bus window and over the features of his remarkable face.

Will chuckled lightly at that, and patted Hannibal’s knee twice. “True.”

Hannibal had always found a way and a reason to touch Will: his face, his hands, small touches to his shoulder. To be touched by Will, however, was an entirely different experience. Hannibal felt his heart stop for a moment at the pat, and knew his lips had dropped open in surprise.

Will’s brows furrowed in. “You’re gaping. Everything okay?” he asked, knowingly, as the bus came to a crawl at the border patrol stations.

Hannibal cleared his throat, and nodded as the bus stopped, and the doors opened. “Yes, Cal, everything is just as it should be,” Hannibal said, and watched as the passengers stood to exit the bus and go through customs in a long line.

“They unboard us and then board us back?” Will murmured, making  face as he stood, grabbing their coats down, and then slipping a pack onto his back. It was then he remembered the gun in his pants, and gave Hannibal a look.

Border guards already waited with dogs outside of the bus, ready to subject it to a search. Hannibal felt the gun against Will’s back, and pulled it out of the waist of his pants as they walked down the narrow aisle. 

Hannibal hid the gun, under his untucked shirt, and followed Will off of the bus, headed to the building where they would be processed. An unregistered gun was not going to help them get across without incident.

“What are you doing?” Will asked, murmured, to Hannibal behind him, more than aware he kept it. If either one of them were caught with it, the whole thing was bust.

“I’m not yet entirely certain,” Hannibal murmured back, and stopped at a planter to smell some small, climbing roses that grew there. “If you’d like to distract that officer to our right, I may be able to manage a minor miracle.”

“Distract him?” Will whispered, harshly, looking around, and then decided blunt and forward was best. Will approached the officer, hands clasped in front of himself.“Excuse me, but do you have time to talk about the Light? The line is so long…”

The officer turned his attention to Will, with an annoyed and confused expression instead of watching the crowd as they filtered into the customs building. “I’m … sorry,  _ light _ ?”

As they shuffled through, Will held back for a moment, letting a few graciously go ahead of them, pausing to talk to the officer. “You look like a man who is in need of the Truth. I’m Cal Roberts, I’m part of a startup movement, a… religion. I don’t have pamphlets yet, but I’d like to invite you to our place of learning and prayer in New York…”

“Oh, sorry, sir. I’m here to watch the crowd, I can’t really have a talk about that sort of thing. How about you get in line?”

Hannibal patted Will’s back as he caught up, and smiled at him, “Cal, we should get in line…”

“My apologies,” Will said and let Hannibal lead him away. “I was only trying to reach out, Elias…” The guard just shook his head and went back to watching the space between the bus and the customs building, into which Cal and Elias disappeared. “It’s in the flowers,” Hannibal whispered as they took their place in one of four lines, together, and took his passport out.

“I will try and pick it back up again on the way back to the bus?” Will whispered back and took out his passport, taking Hannibal’s lead here.

“I’ll do it,” Hannibal said, under his breath, “you have nowhere to hide it. Just try to … bless that security guard on the way out to give me a moment to do it, with any luck, he’ll look at you out of sheer annoyance with your persistent religiosity.”

Will chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Bless him…” he sighed, but didn’t disagree. “I should get really get pamphlets made to be more authentic,” he joked.

“That would likely help our story,” Hannibal agreed under his breath as they took another couple of steps closer to the desks where they would be interviewed.

“Maybe I should have done that before we left,” Will sighed, biting the inside of his lip. Too late now.

Will was beckoned toward the interview window, and Hannibal stole a touch of his lower back before he stepped away. The grim-faced woman at the window held her hand out for his passport. “Where are you headed?”

“New York,” Will said, handing over his passport to her with a little smile, softening his features a little, welcoming.

“Is that home?” she asked, flipping through his passport before she looked at his face.

“Yes, there’s a religious encampment there I live at,” Will said, well aware of what his passport said his home city to be.

“What kind of religious encampment?” she asked, in a bored-sounding monotone.

“Where people who believe in the Light live. We’re building houses and buildings, with solar, and collecting rain water,” Will started to explain, not sure what ‘what kind’ meant, honestly, in this case. It was gathering place.

The customs agent looked Cal up and down, her expression changing. “Sir, have you ever done any illegal drugs?”

“No, of course not,” Will said, looking baffled by that, but honestly expected it. Hippies were a real thing, even religious ones.

“Will you step into that room over there, sir?” the agent said, in a tone that made it clear that she was not asking. It was an order. She nodded to a room made of cinderblock with a metal door on it.

Will cast a look over his shoulder at Hannibal, and then nodded, shucking off his coat as he walked over to the room, and slipped inside.

The agent met Will inside, and brought a german shepherd on a short lead. “This is Bruno. He is a drug-detection dog. Do you have anything you want to disclose right now, sir?” she asked, bluntly. The dog tilted his head at Will.

Will smiled at the dog and couldn’t help the finger wiggle he gave it. “No, nothing to disclose. I’m overcoming an infection, a bad toothache gone wrong, but last I checked there’s nothing illegal about that.”

The agent nodded once and let the dog sniff at Will, circling him. The dog sniffed at Will’s lower back, where the gun had been kept, but then kept going. The agent had Will sit in a low chair, next, and the dog checked him thoroughly, sniffing at his cheek, but sat down and wagged his tail. 

“You can step outside again, sir.”

Will didn’t argue, and gave the dog a little sweeping pet on his way back out, pack over his shoulder once again. He stepped back to the window, to get his passport back.

The agent handed Will his passport, and nodded. “You’re free to go,” she said.

Hannibal, in the meantime, had been seen by another agent, and was already waiting at the door. “Did you have trouble, Cal?” he asked, eyebrows raised as he opened the door.

“They thought I was taking illegal drugs,” Will explained, “But they didn’t find anything.” They walked back through the door, toward the plant and the officer once more. Will paused there again. “My apologies again for bothering you earlier.”

“Oh. No problem,” the officer replied, not as easily distracted this time.

“Would you mind terribly if I did a blessing real quick? For good balance and Light?” Will asked, knowing he was going to be getting on the officer’s nerves, but he had to buy a little time.

“A … blessing? Sir, I’m on duty,” the guard sighed, focusing on the annoying man in front of him with a frown.

“I don’t want to leave any bad energy behind on you for what I did earlier…” Will offered, raising his hands and closing his eyes. “It’ll take five seconds…”

“Sir-” the guard started, awkwardly, “I’m going to ask you to step away.”   
  
Hannibal hurried up behind Will, and touched his shoulder. “Cal, Cal … the bus. They’re going to leave without us.”

Will sighed, and stepped away, back to Hannibal, and nodded at the guard with a little frown. Once far enough away, he looked at Hannibal. “Did you get it?”

“Yes, just barely,” Hannibal nodded, and let Will board the bus first, deferring to him with a sweep of his arm.

Will got on and snagged them the last two seats in the back, and pushed his coat and pack into the overhead bin, and then offered to take Hannibal’s this time. “I have got to figure this religion out,” he whispered.

“The devil is in the details,” Hannibal agreed, and handed Will his coat, wincing a little when he twisted in a painful fashion. “I’m certain we can invent a religion on the way south,” he chuckled, and sat back as the bus began to move, through the checkpoint, on the way into the country they’d just fled.

“Might be fun,” Will chuckled and settled in next to Hannibal, leaning in against him just a little.

“You and I creating a religion of our own? It will be an interesting way to pass the time,” Hannibal said, gazing at Will as Will leaned against him, in a familiar way that he’d spent three lonely years dreaming about.

Will let his head roll back against the seat and then against Hannibal’s shoulder slightly. “Interesting to say the least, yes. Something believable.”

Hannibal swallowed, thickly as the flags around them changed from red and white to the more familiar stars and stripes. He leaned his cheek against the top of Will’s head, and very carefully took his hand, holding it. “What was that you were speaking to the guard about?”

“The Light? I thought it sounded interesting, some sort of great big light that sheds brightness on the Truth of things,” Will whispered.

“That sounds like the start of something. Is there also darkness that opposes this great light? Hannibal asked, his voice low and silky in Will’s ear.

“What if… humanity is the darkness?” Will offered, eyes closing a little at how comfortable they were being like this, hidden away in the back of a bus, everyone else too busy to see them. “The impending darkness are those who don’t believe.”

“Ignorance is darkness, and most people are much happier to remain ignorant,” Hannibal suggested, as he looked at their hands together, snuggled between their legs on the seat.

Their fingers clasped around one another as Will looked at Hannibal up close, if anything they could be mistaken for praying closely. “I like that, actually.”

“What shall we call this religion? Typically, they are named after a person, or a prophet or some kind.”

“I’m not calling it Calism,” Will chuckled, mind working hard to think of something better, as it didn’t really have a nice ring to it.

“Perhaps someone you’ve met?” Hannibal suggested to Cal, and stroked his thumb over the back of Will’s hand, tenderly.

“Me personally? Or Cal?” Will asked, thoughtfully.

“Cal,” Hannibal said, softly, their heads still resting together as the bus hummed away, down the highway. “Someone who meant a great deal to him, who had influence over him.”

Playing the part of someone else entirely, Will had to close his eyes to really sink into it, listening to his own breathing, walking backwards through a world he never walked in, through pain and turmoil of this Cal Roberts, leading back to a five year old boy. “Meyer. Steve Meyer. Meyerism?”

“That sounds appropriately modern,” Hannibal’s voice said, closer to Will’s ear this time as he watched Will sink into another identity, and held his hand, anchoring him.

Will’s active imagination made it easy to sink into someone else, even a made up identity. As a child he would hide himself in those little worlds, making them and hiding away while his father drank himself into a stupor. Will was Cal had similar type parents.

“Mhm,” he hummed, turning his cheek into Hannibal’s shoulder, eyes half open to look at him, a little there and little…  _ not _ .

Hannibal rested their faces together for just a moment, then made himself pull back a little, staring at Will. “What did you see just now?”

“A terrible life for a five year old, but…” Will sighed deeply, and gazing at Hannibal. “It’s fake.”

“He’s an invention of yours, likely far more real than anything an author could flesh out,” Hannibal said, and pressed a kiss to Will’s forehead.

“Is my mind so messed up?” Will asked, quietly, stilling under Hannibal lips there, swallowing hard as he leaned in just so.

“Your mind is like the richest, most fertile soil in the world, whatever you grow in it grows well, be it nightmarish or heavenly,” Hannibal murmured as the bus rocked them back and forth a little.

“And where is Cal Roberts going to take me, more nightmares or a heavenly awakening?” Will asked, softly.

“Likely some of both,” Hannibal said, and let himself take a deep breath of the scent of Will’s hair.

“Drunk parents, abusive mother, raised by a religious cult leader?” Will offered, seeking Hannibal’s opinion on the matter. “Hot tempered.”

“Hot tempered, resistant to authority, determined to be admired, even as he self-destructs,” Hannibal said, giving Cal a little clinical background. “Essentially, a lost boy trapped in the body of a man.”

“I can work with that. I think he’d ultimately want to help people with this religion, to do good, but he’s… doing it wrong,” Will offered, squeezing Hannibal’s hand. “Maybe he’s even… killed someone, accidentally, in the process.”

“A flawed man with what he thinks is a perfect message,” Hannibal reasoned. “He would do anything to protect his cause. If there were someone who threatened his authority, homicide would not be out of the question, should he dysregulate entirely.”

"Someone who saw him for who he was?” Will hummed, easily putting himself into Cal’s shoes now, which was what he would need to do to be believable. “What of Elias?”

“Elias I imagine is rather lost. He is aware that he is unusual but lacks the insight to discover precisely why. He’s been plagued with a persistent feeling of inferiority, and would no doubt be drawn to Cal’s magnetism, and his acceptance.”

“Cal would only want to help, that’s true. Help Elias find himself.” Will gazed opening at Hannibal at that.

Hannibal chuckled, “the blind leading the blind.”

“They make quite a team,” Will chuckled back, and sighed, squeezing Hannibal’s hand as they crossed over completely over into the states once more, into snowy territory.

“They do; Beauty and the Beast,” Hannibal murmured.

“Really? You don’t look that bad,” Will offered, quietly, touching Hannibal’s cheek gently with his free hand.

Hannibal leaned his cheek against Will’s palm, staring at him, up close. “I think you’ve been rendered blind by fatigue.”

“I slept great,” Will murmured back, head canted up to look at Hannibal, who was unrecognizable like this, but Will could see right through him.

“They don’t serve food on buses, do they?” Hannibal asked, with a laugh.

“Nope,” Will whispered with a dry chuckle. “We have more smoked fish in the bag, or little jerky.”

“Later,” Hannibal replied, laughing a little at their situation. He never would have imagined such an … economical escape. “When shall we disembark?”

“Sooner we get a car of our own the better, I think,” Will said, looking out the window, but so far a lot of snow and not much else.

“Certainly before we end up back in Baltimore,” Hannibal whispered, and touched Will’s jaw. “You need to see a doctor.”

“Is it swollen again?” Will asked, having not paid too much attention to it since they left the hotel.

“A little, enough that I’d like to have it looked at sooner than later. Do you have a headache?”

“Yes,” Will admitted, but it wasn’t unbearable with his medication.

“Where are your pills?” Hannibal asked, with soft concern.

“In the bag,” Will answered, touching Hannibal’s hand. “I’m fine, I took some when we got up.”

“We’ll depart at the next city,” Hannibal said, decisively.

Will would not argue, and just rested his shoulder against Hannibal’s, hands folded in his lap, eyes glancing out at the snowy terrain. “Alright.”

“Sleep if you can,” Hannibal murmured, and took his hand from Will’s to wrap his arm around Will’s shoulder.

Will leaned his head in the crook of Hannibal neck and shoulder, with a deep sigh and closed his eyes. “When did this turn into you taking care of me? I thought I was taking care of you.”

“We shall take turns,” Hannibal whispered against Will’s cropped hair, and took a long smell of it, with his eyes closed. “Not to mention, I am a physician.”

“But you’re also overcoming a bullet wound,” Will murmured, quietly.

“And I am sitting down, at the moment, as immobile as you are and as comfortable as I can possibly be,” Hannibal whispered, basking in the glow of Will snuggling against him.

“Fine, fine, I’ll try to sleep,” Will sighed, eyes closed, though the throb in his jaw was starting to feel like his heart beat.

“I’ll wake you when we stop,” Hannibal promised.

Will’s only answer was to trust Hannibal completely, and sleep against him, arms folded over his chest, snoozing lightly.


	3. Chapter 3

“Cal-” Hannibal’s voice whispered in Will’s ear, and his arm gave Will a gentle squeeze. “We’re here. Time to disembark.”

Will sighed out heavily as he was roused, coming to slowly as he stood and reached for their things overhead, slipping his coat on first and then pack over one shoulder, then carrying the other.

Hannibal followed, doing up his coat as he went. It was nighttime, now, and enormous, heavy flakes fell outside, fluttering from the heavens to the ground over everyone as they got off the bus to stretch their legs and go into the terminal for something to eat. “Boston,” Hannibal announced, “as central a place as any to break away from our group, not associated with our history in any significant way,” he reasoned, under his breath.

Will wiped his eyes with both hands and pulled his gloves on now that it was darker and chillier out. “This was far more than the next town,” he murmured to Hannibal, but wasn’t complaining, though the dull ache was now a painstaking throb in his jaw.

“We’d be too conspicuous anywhere smaller, we needed a city to get lost in,” Hannibal said as he walked through the crowd with Will, and outside, then hailed a cab.

“Good idea,” Will managed, stomach growling as it lurched at the same time. A cab pulled up and Will let Hannibal crawl in first and then set their packs down on the seat between them.

Hannibal gave the address of a motel to the driver with a sigh, and looked over at Will. “I took the liberty of finding a place for us for tonight.”

“Three stars?” Will asked with a little drowsy smile. “Thank you.”

Hannibal gave a long-suffering sigh, and showed Will his phone. On the screen was an incredibly elegant hotel with polished stone walls and complex, balanced modern lighting. “I very nearly enquired here. I resisted,” he murmured, mournfully. “Our room features a complimentary hot breakfast.”

“Oh goodie. Buffet style eggs kept warm in a metal dish,” Will said with a mischievous grin. “Fresh waffles though, usually.”

“Hm,” Hannibal hummed, skeptically, and shifted his jaw. “A man can dream.”

“I’m sure we’ll be pleased enough until we get other breakfast options,” Will murmured, gazing out the window.

“We shall see,” Hannibal muttered, but his expression softened when he looked at Will. “There is a medical clinic, nearby. Twenty-four hours.”

“That might be prudent, actually,” Will sighed, rubbing at the edge of his jaw.

“Agreed. We’ll check in and then have you sorted out,” Hannibal murmured, and looked at Will’s slightly more swollen jaw. “Perhaps order something in.”

“I am simultaneously hungry and nauseated all at once,” Will admitted, quietly, between just them.

“We’re not far,” Hannibal whispered back. Thankfully their driver was absorbed in listening to his radio, and seemed to pay no attention to them. He pulled up outside of the three star hotel, and Hannibal paid, then held the door for Will as he climbed out.

Will got out with the packs over his shoulders, one in hand, and looked at the hotel. It was quaint, maybe a bit nicer than the hotel they stayed at last night. “Not too bad…”

“It will suffice. Three-point- _ four _ stars, I hope you don’t think that’s cheating,” Hannibal teased, and took one of the packs as they walked toward the lobby.

Will gave Hannibal a look for that, but said nothing as they entered the lobby. That point four stars may make or break it, honestly, but he was in too much pain to care. They checked in and were given a key, which Will let Hannibal take as he dragged their bags along.

Hannibal took the key, and walked down the hallway to their door, which he unlocked and held open for Will. Once again, no one stared after them, thankfully. They stepped inside, and Hannibal locked the door behind them, then looked around at the room with a disappointed sigh. “This carpet looks designed to hide dirt,” he muttered, toeing at the brown carpet with orange and grey rings embedded in it in a cheap pattern. 

Worse than that, there was one bed. A nice little kitchen area, but it was small, and the bathroom he garnered, even smaller. “It’ll do for a night.”

“It will have to, it is the only room they had left,” Hannibal said, and set his bag on the bed, then realized that it was a single room.  “Let’s not dwell on the accommodations, I’d like to get you to the medical clinic,” Hannibal said, decisively.

“I’m not dwelling,” Will said, setting the bags down and then taking out only what he needed, stuffed into his pockets.

Hannibal looked at himself in the mirror with a frown. The wig was itchy as was the glue on his face after this long, and he was eager to get them both off. “No?” Hannibal asked, with a look at the single, queen sized bed in their room.

“It is what it is.” Will kept his jacket on and waited by the door. “Are you coming? I can go alone…”

"I’m coming,” Hannibal said, and took two painkillers with a glass of tap water before he joined Will. “I need to be certain you’ve given something appropriate.”

Will nodded. “Understandable.” He held the door, made sure they had the key, and then let it slip closed behind them. “You said it’s just down the street?”

“Only a block, with a pharmacy next door. I thought the location ideal,” Hannibal said, walking through the drab lobby to the street outside, back into the snow, which blew in their faces as they walked toward the clinic.

Will was tired sitting anyway and walk to get their legs moving felt like the best laid plans. They walked, heads down, snow flurries  stuck to Will’s face, but they were soon at the clinic and he pushed the door open and let Hannibal in first, and then shut it behind them.

The clinic, like the hotel, was very middle-of-the road. It was nice enough, but rather run down around the edges. It would do. Hannibal walked with Will to the counter, staying close, and the receptionist looked up. “Yeah?” she asked, her Boston accent thick.

“I need to be seen for an infection,” Will said, patiently, sighing inwardly at how much it seemed no one cared much here. “ _ Please _ .”

“Sure, just fill out the form,” she said, slapping a form on a clipboard onto the counter with a pen.

“Thank you,” Will said, a took the clipboard and pen and found a seat. He sat down and started to fill out Cal’s information into it, and once finished, he set the clipboard back on the counter.

The receptionist let out a long sigh, and took the form, then made a phone call. 

Hannibal crossed his legs, and shifted his lips to the side, clearly annoyed as his eyes narrowed at the rude woman. 

Will shrugged his shoulders and went to sit back down. “I’m so glad health is so important to everyone here.”

“Clearly,” Hannibal murmured, and touched Will’s shoulder as he sat. “In times like these, I must remind myself not to allow old habits to resurface.”

“At least not while we’re still very wanted,” Will whispered, turning to look at Hannibal. “How long do you think the wait will be?”

“Hopefully, not too long,” Hannibal whispered back as the receptionist chatted on the phone. He remained very, very still, like he was watching her through tall grass.

Will canted his head at Hannibal, taking his hand. “I know it’s tempting, but stay with me here.”

Hannibal ran his tongue along the smooth insides of his teeth, and squeezed Will’s hand, softly, with a nod. “I can manage a little self-control,” he said, and then watched as the receptionist started to play with the gum she was chewing, stretching it with her fingers before she put it back in her mouth and talked on the phone some more.

Will made a face at the sight, and just kept Hannibal’s hand in his own as his jaw throbbed harder, pain shooting down his neck and into his temple. “We could be here all night.”

Hannibal let go of Will’s hand and stood, walking to the desk. “Excuse me, when could we see the doctor? My friend is in pain.” 

The receptionist just shrugged, and motioned for Hannibal to sit back down. He reached over and pulled a line out of the back of the phone, which went dead on her. The receptionist’s eyes widened, and she stood up.   
  
“You’ll get this back when my friend sees the doctor,” Hannibal said, holding the phone line hostage.   
  
“Jesus Christ,” she muttered and stormed off, toward the back of the clinic with a roll of her eyes.

Will only raised a brow at Hannibal, jaw tense, waiting to see if the woman actually brought a doctor back out, which Will could only assume would be just as horrible at their job as she.

Hannibal exchanged a look with Will, and then glanced toward the door where a very, very old man in a white coat stood, barely able to see the chart he held. “Cal …. Roberts?”

“Yes, he’s here,” Hannibal said, beckoning Cal closer as he tossed the phone line back down on the desk, and had the doctor shake his hand. “No, I’m not Cal. This is Cal. Over … over here,” Hannibal said, pointing at Will, whom the doctor seemed unable to see until he got very close.

“Very good, then, let’s go see what’s wrong with you,” the very, very old doctor said, cheerfully, and led them back to an exam room.

Will gave Hannibal a look as he walked passed him and into the other room with the doctor, and then sat down. “It’s a pulled tooth gone wrong,” he told the man.

“Oh, dear, alright. Have a seat,” the doctor said as he puttered around and sat down to take notes. “When did this happen?”

Hannibal stood near the door, staying out of the way.

Will was already seated, but the man had issues seeing anyway, so he hardly put it past him not to notice. “Initially months ago. It was fine with the first round of antibiotics I got but they aren’t working anymore.”

The doctor nodded, and then looked up at Cal again, confused. “And why are you here, again?” he asked, adjusting his glasses.

Will shot a look at Hannibal, arms folded over his chest. “Infection.”

“And what was your name, again?” the doctor asked, flipping through the chart before his head bowed forward and he closed his eyes. After a long moment, the elderly doctor’s back rose with a soft snore. He was asleep.

Will just watched with shock and awe, and then  gestured for Hannibal to do something before he left completely. “We’d be better off bartering for medication at the pharmacy at this point.”

Hannibal shook his head and put on gloves, then took an otoscope from the wall and looked into Will’s ears before he took his temperature with a probe beneath Will’s tongue. “I’ll be finished by the time he wakes up. He has dementia, it’s unlikely he’ll remember we were here. We’ll take your file and be on our way, not a trace of our visit. It’s ideal.”    
  
Hannibal removed the thermometer when it beeped and looked at it. “You have a low temperature, as I thought. Please open as wide as you comfortably can,” he said, and held a light in hand for examining Will’s mouth from the inside.

Will opened his mouth, though it was hardly comfortable, head tilted back so Hannibal could see the gap in his teeth, where the tooth was now gone.

Hannibal shone the light on the gap where Will’s tooth had been, inspecting it closely. “It’s certainly abscessed, and what you are taking is not preventing its spread. We’ll get you on something stronger,” Hannibal said, allowing Will to close his mouth as he wiped the equipment and placed it precisely where he’d found it.    
  
Only a moment’s searching found the prescription pad in the sleeping doctor’s lab coat pocket. Hannibal pulled it out and tilted it under the light to look at the repeated indent of the doctor’s signature on the bottom line of the prescription sheet, made over and over in the layers of paper beneath. 

Hannibal set the pad down, took a pen from the counter, and traced over the indented lines, replicating the signature perfectly before he wrote the prescription itself in a messy hand, and tore the sheet from the pad before replacing it in the doctor’s pocket. “That should be enough to resolve the infection. Shall we?”

Will nodded, and slipped off the little exam bench. Opening the door they walked out, past the receptionist and out the door. If Will owed anything he wasn’t about to pay it. “Just back the way we came, that building we passed right?”

Hannibal pocketed his gloves before leaving the doctor’s office. The receptionist didn’t even look up from her phone as they walked out, clearly indifferent to anything that interfered with her diversions. 

“The pharmacy is just next door,” Hannibal nodded, and held the door for Will to the large drugstore chain shop that was brightly lit inside. 

“This place takes me back,” Will murmured, heading toward the back of the store where the pharmacies were usually.

“How so?” Hannibal asked, as they made their way through the aisles of greeting cards and condoms to the long pharmacy counter.

“Stammets. This reminds me of the place he worked at,” Will explained, and took the prescription from Hannibal and stood in line.

“Ah, yes, Eldon,” Hannibal said, and stood next to Will in line with a little smile. “I still think about his garden, sometimes.”

“You would,” Will sighed, walking up to the next window, he slid the paper in and handed over a few bills for to cover the cost.

The pharmacist said it would be fifteen minutes, and to feel free to shop while they waited. Hannibal nodded, and picked up a basket, then set about wandering the aisles with Will. “It was beautiful.”

“Unless you were the one underground.” Will followed after him. “What are we shopping for?”

“Whatever it is we need that we’ve neglected to bring, I wasn’t the one who packed the bags,” Hannibal said, as they turned the corner.

“Are you blaming me for something?” Will asked, throwing toothbrushes and travel sized toothpaste into the basket as they walked by it.

“Not at all, simply stating facts. We packed in a hurry, this would be an opportunity to amend that,” Hannibal said, and eyed some shower gel, skeptically before he smelled it and put it back on the shelf.

Will laughed at that. “We aren’t going to run into any fancy soap shops any time soon.” He put a bar of soap into the basket, along with a few sticks of deodorant.

Hannibal smelled a few more before deciding on the one that offended his senses the least, and put it in the basket. “Three stars,” he murmured to himself, like a mantra.

“It has to be a little better than being locked up,” Will jested, throwing in some mouthwash he was sure he would need for that infection.

“It is infinitely better than being locked up,” Hannibal confirmed, with a look at Will, letting his gaze linger.

“Let’s count ourselves lucky for that then,” Will whispered, and brushed his shoulder against Hannibal’s. “How’s the side?”

“Sore, but able to withstand it,” Hannibal said, and touched the spot through the flannel shirt he wore, and leaned against Will, affectionately.

“Do you need anything else?” Will asked, not wanting to make Hannibal suffer more than he had to, not this time.

“No, there is not much else to be done, at this point, simply the necessary pain of healing,” Hannibal murmured.

Will held a hand to Hannibal’s back and nodded slowly. “Alright. Let’s find everything else then and we should be good to go.”

For just a moment, Hannibal leaned into Will, an expression of peaceful bliss on his face as they enjoyed a second of contact before he stepped away. “Yes, that would be best.”

Smiling as Hannibal continued on, Will followed, but didn’t add much more to the basket, very easily living on just essentials.

Soon, the prescription was ready. They picked it up without incident, and headed back toward the hotel. “You should eat before taking those, they can be very hard on the stomach.”

“Room service?” Will asked, the pills stuffed into his pocket. They hadn’t eaten since the night before.

“At this point, I will eat almost anything,” Hannibal said, and felt his stomach rumble like a ravenous animal in his gut. “The receptionist would have made a lovely roast…”

“With nowhere to cook her,” Will pointed out, touching Hannibal’s hand as they walked back to the hotel.

“I’ll try to tell myself it was for the best,” Hannibal pouted, then took Will’s hand as they walked, unable to resist.

“It was.” Will opened the lobby door, and then headed with Hannibal to their room, waiting for Hannibal to unlock it.

Hannibal unlocked the door, and they stepped in, at last. After locking the door, Hannibal stepped into the bathroom to remove the prosthetic nose, immediately, and his wig, shaking out his straight, soft hair with a sigh before he cleaned the remnants of makeup from his face with relief. 

“Been waiting all day for that?” Will asked, looking over the menu, which wasn’t all that exciting.

Hannibal splashed water on his face, and brushed his hair back with both hands, then walked out, towel in hand to blot the water off. “Since this morning. It began to itch on the bus,” he said, and laid on the bed, his side aching from having not laid down all day.

Will took a seat to show Hannibal the sparse menu, and then laid down beside him. It was cozy, intimate even. “I appreciate your efforts.”

Hannibal’s shirt was rolled up at the sleeves, and he turned on his side to look at the menu, facing Will. As basic as the room was, as cookie-cutter and tacky, it was far more comfortable than anywhere else they’d been all day. “Thank you, I suffer for our freedom,” Hannibal jested, with a gleam in his eyes, and looked at Will instead of the menu.

Will was looking it over, and chuckled at Hannibal’s answer, and turned to look at him instead, meeting his eyes. “What do you feel like?”

“Perhaps breakfast for dinner, if they have it. It’s difficult to do too much wrong to eggs and sausage, with toast,” Hannibal replied, and savoured the feeling of lying in the same bed with Will. It was so blissfully intimate and domestic.

“Okay,” Will whispered, reaching for the phone next to them, and dialed the front desk to place the order. He got two of the same, some eggs, sausage, and toast and a side of gravy. He set the menu down and rolled to his side. “It’ll be twenty minutes.”

“It sounds like an eternity,” Hannibal smiled, as his eyes roved over Will’s features, remembering the first moment they met. “Could you imagine at our first breakfast together that we would share another under these circumstances?”

Will curled in a little closer, taking a deep breath. “If only I’d have been listening to you properly then. I might have understood what you were telling me.”

Hannibal laughed softly, and swallowed when Will came closer, his heart skipping several beats. “It was a struggle, but well worth it, I think.”

“Again, you’re very patient,” Will chuckled lightly, leaning into one hand as he propped his elbow up on the bed, gazing down at Hannibal, and then reached out with his other hand to touch his side gently.

“Impatience is the enemy of perfection,” Hannibal said, and took a deep, slow breath when Will touched his side like that, his chest flushing beneath the shirt. Hannibal’s bulbous false nose was gone, now, his own features gleaming under the dim lights of the hotel room, enviously straight and sleek.

“Did you find perfection?” Will asked with a coy, raised brow, rubbing his thumb over the sleek dip and curve of Hannibal’s hip. Hannibal was breathtaking like this, even with a mustache Will knew he hated.

Hannibal’s throat flexed at the touch to his hip, and the black pupils of his eyes spread with pleasure as he stared at Will, utterly and completely taken with him. “I did,” he whispered, and touched the side of Will’s face, pulse beating fast in his wrist.

Will’s own heart beat faster, as if it were going to burst right out of his chest, watching the spread of pupil, his own doing the same, as he leaned in, chancing the moment, and brushing their lips together with a feather light touch.

Hannibal’s heart was high in his throat, and beating faster than the footfalls of a wild thing sprinting through darkness. Will’s lips brushed his own, and for only the second time in his life, he froze, paralyzed with the sheer force of emotion that gripped him at the touch, then parted his lips, shaking, and returned the kiss as his hand came to rest against the small of Will’s back.

It was soft and unhurried, and Will breathed against Hannibal’s lips as they slotted together like perfect little pieces to a puzzle, just waiting to be put back together. His arm snaked up Hannibal’s back, carefully holding him a little closer.

Hannibal felt as though he was tingling from head to feet, and pulled Will closer to him as he parted his lips against Will’s, inviting him to kiss him more deeply, with a soft tilt of his head, and the closing of his hand in the back of Will’s shirt.

Breath hitching in his throat, Will gently wrapped one leg over Hannibal’s hip and kissed him deeper, exploring every inch of his mouth, tongues sliding slowly together as their chests and hearts synced up, beating as one.

Only now, when Will kissed him like that, did Hannibal remember what it felt like to be pulled under by the sea into an embrace that knocked the very breath out of his lungs. Will was the ocean, changeable and full of hidden depth. Hannibal kissed WIll back, harder, his other hand palming the back of Will’s shorn head as he hummed at the feeling of Will’s lips and his own finally finding their places together.

Will cupped Hannibal’s jaw with his hand, biting gently at his bottom lip once, and then kissed him hard once again. He’d only just realized how attracted to Hannibal he was, and it wasn’t until every piece finally fit together and Will accepted his feeling for the cannibal. 

Will’s mouth, hot and wanting, lit something deep inside Hannibal that had been smoldering for years. He rolled over Will, pinning him as he kissed him with passion, tangling their tongues together. He had been waiting for years for this moment, for Will’s acceptance of both Hannibal and  _ himself _ .    
  
Their teeth clicked, and Hannibal sucked Will’s tongue as his thigh slipped between Will’s, slowly.

A noise slipped from Will’s chest at that, and he held Hannibal to him, flushed hot and half hard all at once. His tongue delved in deeper, their kisses going urgent and heated as their breaths started to become more erratic. “Hannibal-”

“Will-” he whispered back, breathlessly, and ground his thigh against Will’s groin, very slowly as he bit at Will’s lower lip, twice, then kissed him full on the mouth again. His ears roared with the rush of his own blood and Hannibal felt as though they were fusing at last.

Will grasped Hannibal’s face with both hands and kissed his hard, passionately, as he instinctively ground down against Hannibal’s thigh, desperate for more friction,  to feel more of Hannibal’s heat and power over him, on top of him.

For years, Hannibal had seen the signs that Will was more attracted to him than he wanted to admit, but feeling it now was beyond anything Hannibal’s formidable mind could have imagined. He moved one hand to Will’s hip, and coaxed Will’s thigh up, higher, around his waist to allow them more contact as they rutted together through their clothing and kissed with almost manic passion.

Another groan escaped Will, and just as he was going to wrap the other leg around Hannibal’s hips, a knock at the door came-- their food. Will pulled his mouth away, trying to catch his breath, panting. “Just… a, just a second…”

Hannibal pulled back, breathless, and looked toward the door with a sigh, and kissed the side of Will’s throat, seductively. “You’ll come right back?”

“Where else am I going to go?” Will whispered, and kissed Hannibal again, deeply, as the person on the other side knocked again. “Let me get it.” He slipped out from under Hannibal, trying to push down the obvious bulge in his jeans, and opened the door. He took the tray and paid the man, and then shut the door and locked it. He set the tray down.

Will kicked off his boots by the door and went right back onto the bed, crawling over Hannibal this time, straddling his lap.

Hannibal pulled Will over him with both hands on his hips, and stared up at him. He hadn’t had a drop to drink, and Will made him feel like he’d just drained two bottles of the world’s best wine by himself. “This feels like I’m dreaming. I’ll wake soon, in a cell.”

“Do you want it to be a dream?” Will asked, leaning down to rest their foreheads together, breathing together again, not rushing.

“I have lingered too long in dreams for the last three years,” Hannibal whispered, and cupped Will’s face with both hands. “I am ready for reality.”

“I’m here with you, in reality,” Will promised, nuzzling his head into Hannibal’s hands, finding that he savored the feel, the intimacy.

Hannibal raised his head, and pressed his lips to Will’s. The simple touch of their mouths sent sparks streaking down every nerve Hannibal had, and sent his heart fluttering all over again.    
  
One of Hannibal’s palms slid to the back of Will’s neck, holding him there as he kissed him slowly and deeply, parting their lips to brush his tongue over Will’s, enticing him.

A soft shudder ran through Will at that, and the slipped his tongue against Hannibal’s, then sucked the wet muscle into his mouth. He dropped to his forearms, just beside Hannibal’s head, and kissed him harder, hip-to-hip.

Hannibal’s hands roved over Will’s back, clutching at the muscle there to hold him close as he wrapped one long leg around the back of Will’s thigh, so lost in the sensation of kissing and being kissed by Will that he completely forgot about any other hunger he felt.

Too lost in their insistent make out session, Will couldn’t even feel the pain ebbing it’s way through his jaw, pleasure coursing through him. He rolled his hips once down over Hannibal’s hips, easily feeling his restrained hardness under the fabric, causing Will’s body to spike to a near feverish rate.

“Will-” Hannibal moaned, one hand snaking between them to palm at Will through his pants, adoring the shape of him.

“Hannibal-” was Will's breathless reply, jutting his hips forward into his palm.

Many times, Hannibal had stolen glances at Will’s body, and sketched him over and over. Now, he could feel him and it was heavenly. “You are perfect…”

Will gazed down at Hannibal, swallowing thickly as he started to undo buttons on his shirt, hands shaking, chuckling a little at the other man’s words. “Hardly.”

Hannibal let Will undress him, slowly, and pulled Will down, for another slow, deep kiss their tongues slipping and tangling together. “A difference of opinion. I think I look at you far more than you look at you.”

Another chuckle from Will, as he slid his fingers down the tanned skin appearing under the shirt he unbuttoned, touching Hannibal in ways he’d only secretly dreamed of. “Fair enough.”

“Better,” Hannibal whispered, and pushed himself up to slide the flannel shirt off, then laid under Will again, and began to undo Will’s tightly buttoned shirt as he kissed the side of his throat. Hannibal’s warm lips and deft tongue worked their way to Will’s earlobe.

Will’s head nuzzled into Hannibal’s lips there, sighing softly at the shivers it left against his skin, buzzing down his spine. His palmed Hannibal’s chest, breathlessly taking in every inch of skin, fingers in the silvery chest hair.

Hannibal sucked Will’s earlobe slowly, and arched under Will’s touch as he pulled Will’s shirt off of his arms, and tossed it onto the floor before he ran both hands down Will’s bare back. His skin was perfectly smooth, warm, and even, every new sensation was overwhelming. “I have always loved your skin…”

“Touched it often?” Will groaned, wondering how he lived without Hannibal's fire like touches.

“When I could, it’s like fresh cream: smooth, seamless, and perfectly pale,” Hannibal whispered, as he dragged his hand up Will’s back to stroke over the side of his neck before Hannibal kissed Will’s lips again.

“Any reason to get me undressed,” Will murmured against Hannibal's mouth. And then kissed him hard, happy to take their time, to explore each other evenly.

“Any at all,” Hannibal agreed, and moaned as their chests touched for the first time. The slide of their skin was blissfully warm and smooth, and Hannibal felt himself throb at that alone. He’d never been attracted with such obsessive magnetism to anyone before Will. 

Will lathed his tongue languidly against Hannibal's, grasping the back of his neck as their bodies pressed and slid together. “Just have to ask now.”

Hannibal moaned softly at the thought, and sucked Will’s tongue again as he rocked his hips against Will’s, hands shaking with built up lust as they kissed and rutted against each other in bed. It was already almost too much to bear. “I will, frequently…”

“Good,” Will panted, reaching between them to undo his own jeans and then Hannibal’s pants, shimmying out of his own.

Hannibal swallowed, and reached down to help Will, pushing his jeans off of his hips, slowly, fingers trailing over the thin fabric of his boxers, and his thighs, which made him feel as though his heart was about to stop entirely. “I’ve thought about you like this, for years,” Hannibal whispered, shocked to find himself nervous, of all things. He had never been nervous with anyone before.

“You never said anything,” Will whispered back, sitting up to help Hannibal from his own slacks, both of them in threadbare boxers.

“You would have run,” Hannibal whispered, and kissed Will’s now slightly swollen lips with his own, and kicked his pants off, to the floor.

“Maybe,” Will murmured, biting at Hannibal’s perfectly shaped lips, not sure how he never acted on these feelings before. He touched Hannibal’s wounded side gently, testingly.

The skin of Hannibal’s wound had healed into a ragged scar, the pain he felt came from deep beneath, which would take much longer than mere skin to heal. When Will touched him, however, pain was the least of what he had felt. “I knew he was going to attack when I stood at the window,” Hannibal whispered.

Will nodded, looking over the wound, the one his shoulder all but healed itself now, just another scar remained. “I did, too. I counted on it.”

Hannibal ran his hand over the scar on Will’s shoulder, than the scar on his cheek, along his jaw. “No scar could ever make you less stunning, to me.”

Will leaned and kissed Hannibal again for that, the throb that was in his jaw was now between his thighs, pushed up against Hannibal’s hips. “You’ve given me half of them.”

“I’ve made you mine,” Hannibal whispered, and kissed Will hard, and tangled their legs together, his palm against the back of Will’s shoulder, holding him close as the other cupped his ass.

“I’ve been yours,” Will sighed, finally removing his own boxers, not at all self conscious of his body, or what Hannibal might say. He wanted this.

Hannibal doffed his own shorts, at the same time, having been starved for this for all the years that he stared after Will and obsessed over him. “Have you really?”

“More than I wanted to admit,” Will said, quietly, looking Hannibal over with eager, hungry eyes. He licked his bottom lip once.

They were bare now, nothing at all between them, and Hannibal ran his hands down Will’s back, over the gentle, perfect rise of his ass. “There is nothing between us now, in any form,” Hannibal whispered, everyone of his highly tuned senses trained on Will.

Will bit Hannibal’s bottom lip and sucked it into his mouth as he rolled his hips down into Hannibal’s, ass arching back momentarily into his palm. His heart beat faster as his cock leaked against Hannibal’s hip.

“Will-” Hannibal heard himself repeat again, and reached down to take Will’s hard cock into his palm, stroking it as he stared up at him with eyes that were blown black with lust.

A shudder shrilled through Will at the touch, shaking as Hannibal worked him over, absolutely unable to believe he was doing this-- finally doing this. He panted against Hannibal’s mouth, “Hannibal-”

Will was hard, for  _ him.  _ The thought made Hannibal gasp before he kissed the side of Will’s throat, biting at his nerves, gently, just enough to tease and not to mark. So often, the prelude or thought of sex was so much better than sex itself, but just stroking Will was more intimate and carnally pleasing than anything Hannibal had let himself imagine. “Did you imagine this? Your cock in my hand?” Hannibal whispered breathlessly.

“Once or twice,” Will whispered back, arching his hips forward, cock slipping through Hannibal’s fingers and grip as precome spread to lubricate the motions.

“When?” Hannibal asked, twisting his hand around Will’s cock, thumb rubbing against the wet tip. The smell of Will’s precome was heady and far, far more seductive than any cologne in the world.

“On my boat, to you,” Will moaned, kissing the words like a promise into Hannibal’s mouth, reaching to stroke his cock, to feel the heaviness of Hannibal’s length in his calloused grip.

“Anything else?” Hannibal whispered, and arched up, pressing himself against Will’s rough hand with a tremble in his voice. The feeling took his breath away, knocked it right out of him.

“After you left my house for the last time,” Will admitted, his voice ragged as heat pooled in his lower back and thighs, months since he’d so much as touched himself, no time, no energy.

Hannibal kissed Will, hard, after the last words, and cupped his free hand over the back of Will’s sweaty neck as he stroked Will faster, harder, able to feel his own body already starting to peak. “You … wanted me-”

Thumbing over Hannibal’s tip, and rubbing the sensitive nerves there, Will’s head dropped slightly, kissing Hannibal passionately as his reply, taking all the things he had never admitted he wanted then. With one more swift hip thrust, Will came, grunting.

The feeling of Will erupting in his hand, releasing and losing control was more than what Hannibal needed to follow. He moaned against Will’s mouth, his own lips dropping open to gasp as he came in Will’s palm, shaking as he stroked Will through the orgasm, holding him with his other arm.

Another shuddering breath and Will all but collapses against Hannibal, holding himself up just barely, on one forearm, the other still stroking Hannibal to completion. He pressed his forehead against Hannibal’s, breathing with him as they caught their breaths.

There they were, messy, covered in sweat and come, and tangled in each other on top of the covers of the hotel bed, breathless. It was an incredible moment of intimacy, raw and vulnerable in a way that Hannibal had never allowed himself to be with another lover. 

He kissed Will’s jaw, up to his ear, trembling, and then Will’s lips as he pulled his hand away, slowly, and held Will with both arms while he caught his breath.

Will nuzzled against Hannibal’s face, arms on either side of his head now, gazing down at him. “Worth the wait?”

Hannibal looked up at Will, his eyes warm and soft. “Every second of it,” he whispered, and nudged Will’s face with his own. 

Will kissed Hannibal again, slowly, and then rolled off to the side, grabbing a cloth from the counter near them, to clean up. “Agreed.”

Hannibal watched, and pulled Will back to him with one arm, so that he didn’t fall off of the bed. “We need a shower, I believe.”

“Together?” Will asked, decidedly slipping off the bed instead, and helping Hannibal to his feet, unable to stop touching him.

“Of course,” Hannibal murmured and stood, easily, both arms wrapped around Will’s trim waist, possessively. “I’m not certain I could stop touching you now, if I tried.”

Will walked backward to the bathroom, hands roaming Hannibal’s form, up to his face, cupping it gently as he kissed him, the mustache only tickled a little. “I don’t want you to.”

Hannibal seemed to actually forget to walk for a step or two when Will kissed him like that, but caught up as he kissed him back, utterly, openly smitten. “You really thought about me, after I’d left?”

“Yes. Of what could have been but not what needed to be,” Will sighed, regretfully, but they were here, that was important, and they promised not to go into the past. He reached around for the faucet.

Hannibal kissed Will’s shoulder as it stretched when he reached his other hand for the faucet, and then nuzzled his neck. “I would say I wished I had known, but perhaps it’s better I did not.”

“You were hiding out near my house, surprised you didn’t hear,” Will chuckled, turning the water on.

“If only I’d come back at the perfect moment,” Hannibal laughed, and stepped into the spray of hot water, pulling Will in after him for a long, hard kiss.

"The perfect moment is now-” Will managed to get out before kissing Hannibal back, smoothing wet hands down the planes of his back, over the branded scar there.

Will’s kiss silenced Hannibal, for a moment as the water beat down, over them both, washing the sweat and come off of their bodies while they pressed together. “Now and then, you have a way with words,” Hannibal whispered.

“Now and then?” Will chuckled against Hannibal’s mouth, one hand on the back of his neck, fingers tangled into the hair at the nape.

“Sometimes,” Hannibal whispered, as his hair curled around Will’s fingers, wet and soft. He loved the feeling of Will’s hand there, sweetly possessive of him. “At the strangest moments, yes.”

“Sweet of you,” Will murmured, and kissed down Hannibal’s jaw, to his pulse as he reached behind him for the hotel shampoo.

Hannibal turned his face as Will kissed him, leaning into the affection with a content sigh, and a smile on his full lips. “I’ve learned to expect poetry from you, but not flowery speech.”

“Is that okay?” Will asked, lathering some shampoo into Hannibal’s silvery hair, watching him up close as he did.

“More than merely okay,” Hannibal whispered, and stroked his hands through Will’s hair, which was nearly too short to be washed at all. “I missed it, every day of my confinement.”

“We’ll make up for it,” Will offered, happy in the moment, not thinking about his life he left behind, but the one he might have now.

“Is that a promise?” Hannibal asked, and picked up the soap, then lathered his hands with the cheap bar, and worked the suds over Will’s chest and back, massaging him.

“Yes,” Will said, decidedly, and rinsed Hannibal’s hair as he washed him back.

Hannibal leaned their faces together, and kissed Will again, then let the water rinse the suds from his hair. There was a primitive comfort in doing this, the intimate, strangely familiar slide of hands over hair and skin in a private ritual. “You’ll have to remind me tomorrow, that I did not simply dream this.”

"We’ll wake up together in the same bed,” Will promised, placing a kiss to Hannibal’s high cheek bone.

“No matter where I was, you were my first thought in the morning, my last thought at night, and nearly every thought in-between,” Hannibal whispered.

“You won’t have to worry about that now,” Will offered, and took the soap to wash Hannibal’s chest and back.

“It ceased to be a problem the moment you brought me along as bait for Francis,” Hannibal said, softly, and closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of Will’s hands. He wrapped both arms around Will’s shoulders, and leaned against him, happily, his eyes closed.

Will dropped the soap and held Hannibal like this, arms around his middle, resting their heads together. “You know, bait should be named for someone you love…”

Hannibal smiled at that, and his heart skipped several beats. “Have you ever named your bait after me, Will?”

“I did when I told Jack it had to be you,” Will grinned, nuzzling against Hannibal’s face once.

Hannibal swallowed, and pulled Will closer by his hips. He enjoyed the sensation of them breathing together, like they shared a set of lungs. “Something about you that I could not quite place changed when you came to see me in my gilded cage for the last time. You’d said a nasty little goodbye, dropped the mic, then came back sweet, and full of mischief. What changed?” Hannibal asked, looking into Will’s eyes.

“Realization. The Dragon changed me, came to see me,” Will shrugged, he couldn't quite place the whole thing, but it was around that time.

“The dragon changed you?” Hannibal asked, with a little surprise, and kissed Will again. “I thought that would be a bloodier affair.”

“He needed me to get to you,” Will offered, turning to shut the water off. “Part of me wanted to see him change you, part of me didn't.”

Hannibal dragged his hands up Will’s back, and ran them through Will’s short hair. “You compromised by smirking at my wound over a wine glass,” Hannibal chuckled, not offended in the least, he wasn’t a hypocrite.

“There was a fifty-fifty chance I’d help you,” Will chuckled back, and then kissed Hannibal again, unable to help it. “When we killed the Dragon, I finally realized I loved what you did to me--what being with you was like…”

Hannibal’s eyes went wet, and glossy at those words. He swallowed, hard, and looked at Will with a touched smile. “You finally stopped fighting yourself, you were at peace.”

That didn’t mean Will liked it, what he was, or had become, but he had found peace in it, though still working through the motions. “Yes.”

“Once we’re safe, we can be that way again, should circumstances permit,” Hannibal said, softly, and curled his arms around Will’s slender, wet torso.

“We’ll see,” Will said quietly, too content to stand there like this, exposed mentally and physically in front of Hannibal.

“We shall,” Hannibal whispered, and kissed Will again, slowly, then pulled back with a wicked look in his eyes. “Now, about that receptionist…”

“Do you want to get caught?” Will asked, brows raised as he reached for two towels off the counter.

Hannibal sighed, and kissed the wet slope of Will’s shoulder. “No.”

“I don’t either,” Will whispered and wrapped Hannibal’s hips with one of the towels.

“I’ll behave, for now,” Hannibal promised as Will wrapped him up like that, and licked water from Will’s earlobe before he gave it a gentle bite.

A grin slipped across Will’s lips, almost bashfully. He put his own towel around his hips, giving Hannibal a look. “I guess you’ll just have to deal with nibbling on me in the meantime.”

Hannibal purred at that, against Will’s ear, and gave him another teasing bite on the neck. “A shame Cal can’t be marked in that manner…”

“Just below the tightly buttoned collar of his,” Will said, head craned to the side as he felt Hannibal’s shark like teeth on his skin.

Hannibal groaned, and let himself pull Will up against him before he bit Will’s neck where his shoulder sloped upwards into his throat. He hummed and sucked, slowly, then ran his tongue over the tender flesh in his mouth, one palm over Will’s perfect, pert ass through the wet towel.

Fingers grasped Hannibal’s hips, keeping him just there as Will let out a breathy moan, goosebumps splayed across his skin as nerves were teased and tantalized. “Harder-”

Hannibal obliged, and let his teeth break Will’s pale skin with a moan that made his hairy chest vibrate. He ran his tongue along the shallow gashes and felt himself begin to grow hard again, just at the taste and scent of Will’s blood.

“Fuck-” Will managed, holding Hannibal closer, his own cock growing hard again as their hips pressed together, only covered by their towels, but even that felt like too much now.

“Mhm,” Hannibal agreed and scratched his blunt nails down Will’s back before he bit a little harder, playing into the way Will responded.

“Hannibal,” Will managed to whisper, pulling him closer as his hands stripped the other man of his towel, and palmed down his ass.

Hannibal moaned, and did the same, tossing Will’s towel aside as he dragged his tongue over the dark bite mark he left on Will’s neck, and did it again, closer to a sensitive nerve that Hannibal knew ran straight to Will’s brainstem, the most primitive part of his brain where fear, pain, and sex swirled together.

Will reached between them and grasped both of their cocks together in one large palm, stroking slowly as his breaths became quicker, his whole body reacting quickly and perfectly to Hannibal’s every tongue stroke and bite of teeth.

Another groan, and Hannibal palmed Will’s bare ass as he arched his hips, pushing his cock against Will’s. The smoothness of Will’s skin over his engorged cock made Hannibal bite harder, sucking and teasing the edges of the wound with his tongue.

With his free hand, Will reached up and tugged on Hannibal’s silvery hair, pulling and pushing him to keep at what he was doing another moan left his chest, fisting them both faster as precome dripped between them, slicking their shafts.

Hannibal gasped, and gave Will’s ass a sharp, hard slap with the flat of his palm as they rutted together hard and fast, then bit his lower lip, not hard enough to make him bleed. It turned into a deep, frantic kiss.

Will panted against Hannibal’s mouth, kissing him hard as his hand sped up, hips arching into his own grip as a fire was lit in his core, spreading down to his lower back and thighs. His toes tensed spread against the tiled floor, touching Hannibal’s.

“Will-” Hannibal managed to gasp as he felt his body start to wind up, tensing slowly this time as Will stroked them both with one calloused hand. He wanted Will in so many ways, he couldn’t think of a way he didn’t want Will, and this was just another fantasy coming to life.    
  
Hannibal ran his nails down Will’s back, harder, and bit the other shoulder, possessively before he slapped his ass hard enough to make the skin sting.

Swearing again, Will started to pant, coming undone at the seams that Hannibal had cut proficiently with those razor sharp teeth of his. His hips bucked wildly, slipping their cocks together as he started to come. 

“Fuck-” Hannibal swore, the rare obscenity leaving his lips as he came after Will, unable to hold back when he felt Will’s warm come washing over him, slicking them together.

Will kissed Hannibal once again as he continued to stroke them until thoroughly done, and then reached behind to turn the water back on and rinse them clean. He could get used to this, he could grow comfortable with this intimacy in ways he used to chide himself for ever wanting.

Hannibal kissed Will back and followed him into the shower with a soft laugh, the kisses becoming more and more gentle as they wound down. “We may not make it out of the bathroom,” Hannibal jested.

“Not if we keep this up,” Will agreed, washing the come from his hand and their cocks, laughing a little to himself about the whole thing. “We’re like teenagers.”

“Have you ever been with a man, before?” Hannibal asked, curiously, and turned Will just a little in his arms so that the water rinsed over the shallow bite marks that sat low on Will’s throat.

“Never this far,” Will admitted with a bashful head duck, making it seem as though he were trying to get a look at the bite left on him.

Hannibal chuckled at the way Will was trying to look at himself and shut off the water, then led Will out of the shower to wipe away some of the steam on the bathroom mirror. “I’ll keep that in mind,” Hannibal promised, standing behind Will with both arms around him.

Will touched the spot and looked into the mirror, back at Hannibal. “Will this be another scar from you?”

“No, they aren’t deep enough for that, but I do promise to give you as many as you like,” Hannibal said, almost purring the words against the delicate shell of Will’s ear.

“I need one for now, a scar for these better times between us,” Will said, quietly, leaning back into Hannibal’s broad chest.

Hannibal nuzzled Will’s throat, and smiled, then kissed the spot under his ear. “A bite mark from your cannibal?”

“Doesn’t have to be a bite,” Will mused, and then turned to wrapped his arms around Hannibal’s wet, tanned shoulders.

“Not a bite over your heart?” Hannibal asked, blushing a little with sheer happiness as he held Will.

“Is that what you’d like?” Will asked, aware that Hannibal had scarred him in very sensitive spots, and the heart would be the next likely spot.

“If I had to choose, I would eat your heart,” Hannibal said, his palm over Will’s beating heart. “It is the most remarkable part of you.”

Will smiled at that, just a little, and kissed Hannibal for it. Trusting Hannibal, Will knew he wouldn’t be actually eaten. “Do it.”

“Come to bed,” Hannibal said, pulling Will into the other room, slowly.

Will followed, slowly, smiling as they made their way to the bed, and he laid down, not worried about them still being damp.

Hannibal stared at Will’s smile, and laid him on the bed, then climbed over him, and kissed his lips, slowly. He worked his way down Will’s throat, sucking and licking toward Will’s chest. Being with Hannibal like this was invigorating and dangerous, but the thrill shot through Will's spine, his skin tingling where Hannibal's lips left sucking little marks.

Hannibal looked up at Will, with sly, dark eyes. The last eyes all of his victims had seen. Hannibal palmed Will’s chest, and scraped his teeth over the beating of Will’s unique, frustrating, fascinating heart.

Will hissed a little, but held Hannibal’s head with one hand, encouraging him. “Keep going.”

Hannibal nuzzled Will’s chest, then opened his jaws a little wider, and twisted Will’s other nipple gently as he bit, teasing at first as he worked Will up, arousing him as he increased the pain.

“Oh-” Will let out sharply, and then tugging Hannibal’s hair gently, not to pull him off, but make him continue. His body burned with desire all over again, coursing through his veins.

Hannibal’s leg started to rub against Will’s balls at the same time, slowly, and he lapped his deft tongue over Will’s trapped nipple, flicking until the pink flesh stood on end, aroused, then bit down harder, letting his teeth start to break Will’s skin.

A hiss that turned into a moan this time as Will clenched his fingers into Hannibal's hair, writhing slightly under his frame, eyes closed.

Will’s moan made Hannibal’s half-hard cock go completely rigid against Will’s pelvis, throbbing as he tasted Will’s blood. It was just as beautiful as the first time. He could feel Will’s heart beating harder as his body grappled with pain and lust at the same time, and Hannibal rubbed them together, sinuously, and sank his teeth, further, the act brutal while his hand reached up to stroke the side of Will’s throat, tenderly.

Blood and breath all at once mingling in the air, enough to make Will dizzy with lust as he arched into Hannibal and opened his eyes to gaze at him, into dark honey colored irises. No words were needed, just panting breaths and gutteral moans seemed to be enough communication.

Another clamp of Hannibal’s jaws and his teeth were deep into Will’s pectoral muscle, blood swelling around his lips, into his mouth. Penetrating Will with his teeth made the savage looking cannibal shudder with pleasure, and he ran both hands down to Will’s ass, squeezing before he traced a fingertip over Will’s cleft, teasingly, then rolled Will’s balls with his other hand, breathing hard.

Jolting, Will let out a breathless shout at the pain, slowly relaxing again, whole new sensations of lust boiling up in his core as Hannibal dared to tease. “Hannibal-” he managed, thighs spread just  _ so _ .

Hannibal teased his fingertip over Will’s entrance, sure that he was not aware of just how exquisitely sensitive he was there. Hannibal longed to show him. 

Finally, Hannibal pulled his teeth out of Will’s chest, and kissed it, bloodying his face even more before he kissed his way down Will’s stomach to his hips, then licked his cock, leaving a stripe of blood over it.

Bloodied lips stained Will’s creamy white skin all the way down as he watched, and this head fell back again on his neck as he parted his legs further, giving Hannibal’s room and presenting just how much he wanted this.

Hannibal dragged his blood-drenched tongue over the tip of Will’s cock and closed his eyes as he tasted Will’s precome for the first time, then slid his lips down, over the tip, and began to suck in slow, but powerful bursts.

Unable to believe he might just come for the third time in an hour, Will palmed down the back of Hannibal’s hand curling his legs in jutted his hips up toward Hannibal’s mouth. “That’s… that’s good.”

Blood and Will’s cock at the same time … Hannibal could not imagine a more sensual taste in his mouth. He began to let his head bob, slowly, and wound his tongue around Will as he worked, ready to show Will what it felt like to be blown by a man, a man who knew precisely how to do it correctly.

Whoever Will had to compared it to, this was already ten times better. He panted out, hips arched and rolling into each pass of tongue and lips, a slow build in his spine this time, warming them thoroughly.

A groan slipped from Hannibal’s wide, hot mouth as he sucked, his back flexing as he blew Will with passionate enthusiasm, already sharp cheekbones even sharper when his cheeks hollowed beneath them. His finger circled Will’s anus, slowly, teasing and arousing, introducing him to the pleasure in a place he guessed Will had never experimented with, much.

Or at all. There was only so much Molly was up for doing.

Will’s fingers grasped Hannibal’s hair tightly with that and his hips rutted down on the sensation, two ends of pleasure meeting and pushing him  right up to the edge. “Fuck-”

Hannibal moved his fingers up to Will’s wet shaft, stroking it as he circled his bloodied tongue and lips around Will’s swollen tip until his fingers were wet, then used one against Will’s entrance, slick. He massaged Will’s asshole, slowly, relaxing him during the lascivious blowjob, and took Will’s cock to the back of his furnace-hot throat.

Relaxing into the feeling, no longer tense, every part of Will seemed to give over to the pleasure of the stroked sensitive nerves. At this rate though, he wouldn’t last for more. “I… oh fuck, Hannibal-”

Hannibal hummed around Will as he rubbed himself against the blanket, his mouth and throat full of Will’s cock. The taste, the smell of Will as he neared climax was enough to bring tears to Hannibal’s eyes, and he sucked harder, tonguing faster, desperate for more, playing Will like a clavier.

Eyes squeezing shut, Will saw white behind them as he came, slipping against Hannibal’s tongue and down his throat in another gush, unable to to help the way his hips pushed and pulsed to feel the edge of friction on Hannibal’s tongue.

Musky, salty, pungent flavour flooded Hannibal’s tongue. Will tasted like the sea, like nothing Hannibal had had before and everything he expected. Hannibal came against the blankets with a groan, and swallowed, shuddering before he pulled his mouth off of Will, and rested his head against Will’s hip, breathless.

Panting, Will ran his hand through Hannibal’s sweaty hair. “You... came from that?”

Hannibal nodded, and looked up at Will as he licked blood from his lips. “The taste of you? Yes.”

Will had, perhaps, underestimated just how much Hannibal longed for and loved him. “Come here.” Hannibal crawled up Will’s body, slowly, and touched the deep bite over his chest. “I’ll have to bandage that, it’s good that you’ve already got antibiotics.”

“Which I still need to take,” Will whispered, but pulled Hannibal down for a kiss first, tasting himself on Hannibal’s lips and tongue.

“I’ll have to clean that, but first, we should eat so that you can take your pills,” Hannibal whispered when their lips parted.

“I love cold eggs and sausage,” Will whispered back, softly, biting at Hannibal’s lip.

“You have such simple tastes,” Hannibal whispered, and kissed Will back, then stood to bring Will his plate of food, with a fork, and brought his own over to eat in bed. It was cold, and hardly up to Hannibal’s usual standards but he was so blissfully happy that he did not care.

“I was being sarcastic,” Will said, sitting up, perfectly naked with a plate of cold food in his lap. He didn’t care. Cutting into the eggs and sausage, he shoveled them into his mouth, chewing only on one side.

“Should I try to heat it up in the microwave?” Hannibal offered, no matter how much he detested the appliances, they didn’t have a stove at the moment.

“If you want it warm,” Will said, not at all worried about it, too hungry to care at this point.

Hannibal eyed the microwave and shook his head as he kept eating. “Best to get it over with. I detest microwaves. They are everything that is wrong with modern cuisine, or a lack thereof.”

“They work in a pinch,” Will murmured around another bite, eating especially slow suddenly as he found it harder to chew. Luckily, eggs were pretty slippery.

“I’ve never wanted to eat food heated by radio waves,” Hannibal reasoned, “it’s utilitarian, and crude.”

“You’d rather starve if offered?” Will asked, finally getting the last bite in and left the toast. He reached for one of the packs and pulled out a bottle of water and popped open the pills and swallowed a dose down.

“I’d rather eat something cooked on a stove, ideally,” Hannibal chuckled, and watched Will take his medication, noting the time. He set his plate aside and got up to go into the bathroom and came back after cleaning up, and washing his hand thoroughly. “I found a small first aid kit under the sink, thankfully,” Hannibal said, brandishing an alcohol wipe and a few bandaids.

“Lucky for me,” Will said, watching Hannibal, finding it strangely comfortable to be nude around him.

"Quite, or I’d have to become ugly again, and go back to the store,” Hannibal said, and dabbed at Will’s wound with the antiseptic soaked wipe, then admired it. “You will have quite the scar there…”

“Good,” Will whispered with a little sigh at the sting, but otherwise nothing hurt like the throb in his jaw. “We’ll buy a kit next store run.”

“This will do for now. We’re not attempting to minimize scarring, so a little bandaging and the antibiotics you are taking will be sufficient,” Hannibal said, as he used the band-aids like butterfly bandages to pull the edges of the tooth marks together just enough to keep it from healing in a distorted manner. “A three star repair,” he chuckled.

“I like three stars,” Will chuckled, and reached one palm to capture Hannibal at the back of the neck, pulling him down for a kiss.

Hannibal knelt in the bed, and laid down next to Will as they kissed. Even laying down, Hannibal felt like he was floating when Will kissed him, and held onto him, tightly. “Do you?” he asked, when their lips parted.

“It will always remind me of you,” Will mused, rolling to his side to look at Hannibal up close like this. “Do you need your medication?”

“I should, I’ll be very sore tomorrow,” Hannibal sighed, but made no motion to get it. Will was here, bare and waiting to cuddle. Nothing could make Hannibal leave the bed.

“I’ll get it,” Will said, rolling to get the backpack where he placed it on the floor, and then fished out the bottles, his bare ass to Hannibal as he did.

Hannibal sighed his appreciation, and slid his hand over Will’s smooth ass, moving closer to his warmth. “Thank you.”

Will grinned back over his shoulder and handed Hannibal the water and the pills. “You’re welcome.”

Hannibal took the pills, and took a swallow of water, then set the cheap, empty glass on the night stand, and curled up to Will, happily. “I was certain that I was going to spend the remainder of my life as alone as I had been when Mischa died, and then I met you.”

“And when did you realize that about me?” Will asked, curious now, considering his own take on Hannibal had been that he was completely incapable of loving anyone.

“The moment I met you,” Hannibal said, honestly. “I am, in my own way, able to read the people I met at a glance, not the way you do, but more analytically. The second I met you, I was in love. You shook me to my core, and I became obsessed, rapidly.”

A breathy chuckle left Will’s lips as he moved closer, curling up against Hannibal, head resting in the crook of his neck. “Wished I known.”

“When did you know?” Hannibal asked, with his arm around Will, and moved them a little to free the blankets they were on, then draped the blankets over them both, tucking them in.

“For certain the night you… left,” Will said, carefully and decidedly, not to bring up the actually event and action.

Hannibal looked at Will, surprised, and a little heartbroken, then turned on his side to face Will, still holding him. “You have a Shakespearian knack for timing, Will.”

“I wasn’t sure until you picked up the phone and I warned you. I didn’t have to, but… I wanted to,” Will sighed, moving to accommodate Hannibal’s movement.

Hannibal sighed as well, heavily, and rested their faces together as he held Will to him, just as he had after disemboweling him, one palm against his back, the other cupped over the back of his head. “If you’d come earlier, if you’d been honest with me, we could have left together.”

Will had been too caught up in trying to be a good person, better than this, that he didn’t see all that at the time. He didn’t see the love in everything Hannibal had done for him. “I know that now…”

Hannibal opened his eyes to look at Will again, and nodded. “It doesn’t matter. Our past is what it is,” he said, thinking Will’s response over. “You didn’t understand my feelings for you, at that point?”

“I… didn’t think you were capable of love,” Will admitted out loud this time, sighing.

Hannibal blinked at Will, honestly surprised. Of course, only Will could surprise him like this. He considered Will’s words, and his actions, silent for a long moment.

“I didn’t realize you were in love with me until I asked Bedelia, when it dawned on me,” Will whispered, touching Hannibal’s chest when he didn’t say anything.

“Bedelia?” Hannibal asked, shocked by the realization that Will had not known what to him was the most obvious thing in the world. “When?”

“Few days before everything that went down,” Will said, quietly.

“A few days before you arranged my escape, you mean?” Hannibal asked.

“Yes.” Will held his breath, unsure if Hannibal was upset or…

Hannibal was stunned. “You’re an empath…” he said, as competing emotions swirled in his chest, fighting for dominance.

“I can block out things I don’t want to see or hear--  _ feel _ ,” Will tried to explained, but it was hard to explain something that was uniquely him. “I didn’t see it because I didn’t think it was possible. So I ignored the obvious in front of me.”

“What possible explanation did you have for everything I did?” Hannibal asked, outraged that Will had completely overlooked his love. “For my turning myself in?”

Will recoiled back, hit openly with Hannibal anger, it felt like a fist to his chest, nearly knocked breathless. “I knew you were obsessed and wanted to be my friend. You were lonely, but I honestly didn’t think you loved me. I reasoned that no one could do what you did to me and love me at the same time.” Will slipped off the bed, finding his boxers to pull on, thrown askew somewhere in the room.

Hannibal sat on the bed with a sigh, and held his head in his hands before he watched Will dress, in a hurry. “Are you leaving, now?”

“I’m not leaving,” Will said, evenly, only trying to find his underwear, to get just an inch of space before he fed off Hannibal’s anger too much and said things he regretted.

Hannibal stood, and watched Will, then did the same, pulling on his underwear. Arguing nude was … undignified. “I was not only obsessed with you, Will. Everything that I did, I did because I love you,” Hannibal said, over a tight throat, saying the words to Will for the first time. “My love is a strange beast, certainly not always docile, not always gentle. I have tried to kill it to free us both, more than once, but …” he spread his hands, and licked his lips. “It is too stubborn, and too strong a thing for me to kill, stronger than anything I’ve ever encountered.”

The bite over Will’s heart throbbed in time with the pulse in his neck. They’d promised not to bring up the past and yet that’s exactly what they did given the chance to hash it out. “I  _ know _ that now. Are you  _ really  _ upset with me for not being a better empath about this?” Will was not perfect, as much as he had tried to be, there were things that slipped past him that were personal, like this detail. Work was much different than personal life.

“I am shocked,” Hannibal clarified, “and hurt that you didn’t realize that I love you until Bedelia, of all people, told you.” He sighed, hands by his sides now, and looked Will over. “Perhaps hurt because you obviously did not  _ want _ to know to the extent that you numbed yourself to every obvious suggestion of it.”

“I numbed myself because I didn’t think it was possible for you to love anyone, so I steeled myself away from disappointment,” Will explained, wishing like nothing else that they had picked up whiskey, anything to take the edge off the mental and physical pain.

Hannibal’s lips parted at that, and he took a deep breath before he walked closer to Will, “disappointment implies expectation.”

“Yes it does,” Will answered, a frown permeating his features, far more pronounced without the beard to cover the lines.

Hannibal raised his hand to touch the lines in Will’s face. “You knew you loved me, you thought I could never love you back,” he murmured. The pills were kicking in now, making everything slightly blurry, but he could still see the way Will’s eyebrows drew together just a little, the injured-animal look in his eyes.

Their relationship had never been easy, never made much sense to anyone else, let alone Will. Getting Hannibal to turn himself in was as much a saving grace for himself so he didn’t have to think about someone who would never love him. Will was more than ashamed of how wrong he had been.

“Yes,” Will answered, simply.

Hannibal’s offended outrage simmered down, and he thumbed the little lines at the side of Will’s blue eyes. “Do you believe now that I love you?” he asked, seriously, staring into Will’s eyes, “And that no matter how inhuman I might have seemed, that I always have?”

“Would I still be here if I didn’t believe that?” Will countered as he gazed back at Hannibal, slowly letting his defenses fall again, letting Hannibal knock down his forts.

“This is important to me, Will,” Hannibal said, softly, “I’d like to hear a yes or no, please.” His heart beat a little faster, and he cupped one side of Will’s face with his hand, their foreheads close.

Will pressed their forehead together, letting off a soft sigh. “Yes. I believe you.””

Hannibal nodded, and kissed Will on the lips, very tenderly, and gently, then pulled him closer by his waist, and held him for a long moment. “How did she tell you?” Hannibal asked after a moment of relieved silence.

“In her usual, irritating, psychiatric way,” Will answered with some annoyance in his tone. “I called her Bluebeard’s wife and she said if that were so, she would have preferred to be the last. It clicked, and I asked her if you were in love with me.”

Hannibal sighed and shook his head, then kissed Will’s neck again, over the marks he’d left on his skin. “A pity we’ll never have the chance to eat her,” he whispered, and nuzzled Will’s face. 

“Never say never,” Will murmured, glad to be close to Hannibal again, hoping to put it behind them once and for all, but he knew that there would be days it would come up again.

Hannibal chuckled softly, and pulled Will closer, walking back to the bed with him to resume their snuggling now that they’d addressed the issue. “Would you like to prepare and eat her together?” he asked, with a soft smile.

“If the time presents itself,” Will said, crawling into bed with Hannibal, gently pushing him down onto the bed.

Hannibal pulled Will down, beside him again, letting Will rest against his chest as he pulled the blankets back over them both. “She favours taking vacations in the Bahamas, and the South Pacific, we could always find her there.”

“When we get there, maybe,” Will said, though he definitely had ideas and schemes for Bedelia.

Hannibal kissed Will again, with a little smile, and gazed at him up close, adoringly. “What did you do after you found out that I’m in love with you?”

“I went back to my hotel,” Will said, cheekily.

Hannibal tilted his head, eyebrow raised. “You went back to your hotel?” he asked, a gleam growing in his dark eyes.

“I did.” Will grinned and kissed Hannibal on the mouth slowly, he wouldn’t go into details, but it was what he had done before he suggested to Jack that they use himself as bait for the Dragon, only to set up Chilton instead. A subconscious effort, of course.

Hannibal smirked at that, and kissed Will, harder, understanding perfectly. “I see…” he whispered, and stroked his fingers down Will’s back, a smirk in his eyes. “And then you came back to see me,” Hannibal whispered, and kissed one of the bite marks on Will’s neck.

“A bit later, after Francis’ stunt,” Will said, though he knew when he had come to see Hannibal, he wasn’t quite ready to move forward, he still thought things could be… different.

“Then why the goodbye?” Hannibal asked, able to remember it well. “For the benefit of anyone watching the security footage? Did you have to reject me again to see if Bedelia was telling you the truth? Or did you find the thought of us being in love with one another overwhelming?” Hannibal’s eyes stayed relaxed and gentle as he let his fingers rove over the skin of Will’s back in intricate patterns.

“I thought Molly deserved better than that from me. It wasn’t fair to her, so things had to work out like they did, even if I didn’t plan all this, it’s worked out. She thinks I’m dead, and that’s better for her than thinking I left her,” Will said, compassionately. Molly and Wally didn't’ deserved to be abandoned, not again.

Hannibal shifted his lips to the side, but held his tongue. “You made an attempt, at least.”

Will palmed down Hannibal’s chest, over his heart. “None of that matters now. It’s in the past.”

“When did you decide to abandon that attempt?” Hannibal asked, quietly, and laid his hand over Will’s where it was on his chest, keeping it there. “When you came back to me, you were different. I could see it,” he said, with a soft smile. “It was more than you trying to charm me, and smooth over my ruffled feathers.”

“It was just after that, after I talked to Francis and then Jack about how to catch him. When I knew we could do it and use you, I knew,” Will said, not sure if that made too much sense, but it was somewhere in those moments.

“The stars aligned,” Hannibal said, and laid his head on the pillow.

Will touched the fringe over Hannibal’s brow and smiled down at him. Kissing him sweetly, he moved in closer and wrapped himself around him, like a blanket. “They did. Just for us.”

Will’s head on his chest felt just right, like it had always been meant to be there. “Just for us. We should sleep,” Hannibal sighed, able to feel fatigue tugging at his body.


	4. Chapter 4

Morning came sooner than Will wanted, but they had to get on with the day, move forward, and find a car. Buses didn’t seem like something he wanted to deal with much more, but if that was the only way, well, he’d survive. He wasn’t so sure about Hannibal.

Will rolled out of bed and found the rest of his clothes, shaking out another pill that he downed with some water.

Hannibal stretched, and reached one arm out in bed, then opened his eyes when he realized Will was not there. He sat up, looking around, and relaxed when his eyes found Will right there. “Good morning.”

“Mornin’,” Will said, looking around now for the little coffee and tea maker and started it up.

Will’s accent was thicker in the morning. Hannibal had noticed that the first time he’d brought Will breakfast. “How is your chest?” Hannibal asked, as he stood, slowly, very stiff today from everything they had done and overdone the day before.

“Sore,” Will said, rubbing at the patched up spot. “But fine.” He set out two mugs for coffee and let the machine get to work to make what was likely the worst coffee ever.

“I’d say that I’m sorry, but I’m not,” Hannibal chuckled, and walked closer to Will to stand behind him, arms around his chest.

“I wouldn’t want you to,” Will said, putting sugar in his cup, not a lot, and then leaned back against Hannibal. It was still surreal to be like this.

Hannibal nuzzled Will’s hair, then kissed the back of his neck, thinking precisely the same thing. “Would you like half of one of my pills?”

“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” Will said with a chuckle. The pain in his jaw was still something else though, but he knew the meds would take a whole day or more to really start working.

Hannibal took the other cup of coffee, and looked at it skeptically, before he took a sip over Will’s shoulder and his eyebrows furrowed together, but took another sip. “How is your jaw?”

“I can still feel my heartbeat in it,” Will said, stirring up his drink, and then took a sip. His face contorted with the taste.

“You’ve only had two doses of your antibiotic. I assume you took one this morning?” Hannibal asked, and picked up the room service menu, looking it over.

“I did. I know it takes time,” Will murmured, and set the coffee down with distaste.

“Perhaps we can order some from the kitchen. It might be marginally better,” Hannibal sighed, and went to the phone to order. “What would you like?”

“Something with bacon,” Will murmured, tossing the gross coffee down the drain.

Hannibal nodded, and ordered breakfast, eggs benedict for himself, and a bacon and cheese omelette for Will, coffee for both. “It should be here, shortly. How did you sleep?” Hannibal asked as he stood again, and sauntered back to Will, an adoring look in his eyes.

“Fine.” Will pulled Hannibal forward by the hips and kissed him once. “You?”

“I woke many times, each time delighted to find you sleeping on my chest,” Hannibal murmured.

“Worried I wouldn’t be?” Will asked, sheepishly.

“Simply not used to the reality,” Hannibal smiled. “You did drool, a little,” he teased, gently, and tried to pat down a little of Will’s short hair that managed to stick up at the back.

"I’m going to blame the infection for that,” Will said, decidedly, ducking his head a little when Hannibal did that.

“If you like,” Hannibal murmured, and kissed Will’s forehead when he bowed his head, then hugged him with both arms. “I did not mind.”

Will took a deep breath of Hannibal, and shifted into his arms easily, finding just how comfortably he fit there. “I found sleeping with you comfortable.”

“I’m glad. You seemed to enjoy petting my chest,” Hannibal laughed, “I think you thought I was a dog.”

Will rolled his eyes with a little huff. “You would assume that.”

“Did you dream of a dog with a silky, and luscious coat?” Hannibal jested, in an elated, relaxed mood this morning.

“No. My dreams were very dull,” Will answered, rested their faces together once more.

“That’s new,” Hannibal murmured, and kissed the tip of Will’s nose, softly, then nuzzled him. “Your dreams were always so vivid.”

“I was also very tired and… comfortable. Soothed, I guess,” Will suggested, not sure why, but it could have been anything. He didn’t  _ always _ dream.

“Perhaps you should have been sleeping with me, all along,” Hannibal murmured, a smile in his warm voice.

“Perhaps I should have been,” Will agreed, and leaned into kiss Hannibal again, softly.

“I think you might have shot me if I’d suggested it too early,” Hannibal whispered, before kissing Will, again.

“Maybe,” Will murmured against Hannibal’s mouth, arms tight around him so their bare chests pressed together, their hearts beating close.

“That may not have dissuaded me,” Hannibal whispered, able to feel Will’s heart beating against his own, through their flesh and bone. 

There was a knock at the door, and Hannibal sighed. “You’ll have to get that, I don’t have my face on.”

Will nodded, finding his pants and a shirt, and then went to the door to get their food, paying for it there, and then kicked it shut again. There was a fresh pot of coffee and two mugs. “This coffee smells much better.”

“A relief,” Hannibal sighed, and turned the television on to a news channel. It was best to stay aware while they were on the run, after all. “I have a feeling their terrible in-room coffee has the sole purpose of encouraging room service orders.”

“Usually is,” Will said with a nod and set took his plate off the tray and left Hannibal for himself, dressing the coffee the way he liked and then cut into his eggs.

Hannibal poured and sipped the improved coffee, then sat with Will to eat as the news hummed on in the background. “What are your thoughts on obtaining a car?”

“Well, we have passports, we could rent something,” Will suggested, though he knew even that meant they needed licenses, since they were technically from here, or at least he was, according to his passport. “Or steal something else.”

“Stealing something would likely leave the least trace. Purchase would necessitate registration, and a bill of sale,” Hannibal murmured, then stopped eating when he noticed their faces on the news.   
“News out of Maine. A couple travelling by bus claim to have spotted Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham on a bus travelling over the Canadian border. Law enforcement have not verified the claim, and no bodies have been recovered as of yet at the sight of the killing of Francis Dolarhyde…”  
  
The bite in Will’s stomach almost didn’t go down as he listened, and then set his fork down, shifting his jaw. “That’s disheartening.”  
  
“They’re using our old photos, they didn’t get footage of us,” Hannibal said, and set his plate aside. “Yet, anyhow. I think perhaps we should check out.”

“Good idea,” Will sighed, setting his food aside, he got his boots on and overshirt, buttoning it up tight. A good shave would have to come later when they had more time. He got all his things back into his pants, and then started to repack their bags.

Hannibal went into the bathroom to don his disguise, listening as the news went on about them, mostly Hannibal’s criminal background, his victims, things that were not worth watching at the moment. Five minutes later, Hannibal was disguised as Elias, and stepped out of the bathroom to dress. “We should take a car from the airport parkade,” he suggested. “Long term parking. It will likely not be reported missing for days.”

“Yeah,” Will agreed, taking their bags in hand, making sure nothing was left behind to trace them. They used fake names of course, and if those got found out… He sighed, he couldn’t worry about that yet. “We’ll need to take a taxi there.”

“Fair enough,” Hannibal said with a sigh, and realized now that they were even closer how devastating being caught and separated would be. “Have you already settled the room up front?”

“Yeah, we paid cash. We could get the deposit back, but if you don’t care about fifty bucks, I don’t,” Will murmured. “We can just go and leave the key here.”

“I don’t care about fifty dollars,” Hannibal confirmed, and finished his coffee, then used a napkin to wipe their saliva from the rims of all the cups in the room, and all the utensils. An alcohol wipe and five minutes was all he needed to take care of most of the obvious fingerprints, and took the time to be meticulous before tossing the wipe in the garbage, and shouldering his jacket on. “Open and close the door with your sleeve over your hand,” he advised.

“We’d better hope they don’t come in here with a fine tooth comb given the bodily fluids we left and hair,” Will said, tucking his hand into his sleeve to open the door.

Hannibal covered his hand with the sleeve of his jacket and put the “please clean” sign on the door. “After approximately an hour, none of that will be left behind,” he said, quietly, and kissed Will on the cheek before heading down the hall, toward a fire exit to avoid the lobby.

Will worried, he knew he did, maybe too much. Hannibal’s words as they got into a stolen police car rang through his mind as he followed the doctor once again. “Yeah…” he said.

“This way,” Hannibal called over to Will, gently, as calm as ever, even cheerful as he held the door open, careful not to touch the handle. A wintery parking lot waited beyond, wind blowing in frosty gales.

Taking a deep breath, Will tugged his coat around him tighter as they walked through, but luckily a taxi waited just on the street.

Hannibal looked at the taxi and crossed the street, ignoring it as they walked away from the hotel. “Under the circumstances, I think being a little paranoid could benefit us,” Hannibal explained as they turned the corner, and Hannibal hailed a cab driving by. He held the door open for Will, and got in, after him, then told the driver to head to the airport.

It wasn’t so unusual for taxis to be waiting at hotels, though, but Will went with it. He set the things down at his feet as the car started to go. “This works just as well.”

Hannibal waited until he saw that the cab driver was not paying any attention to them, and took Will’s hand, squeezing it. “You’ll have to forgive me for not wanting to lose something I’ve wanted for so long.”

“Taking one taxi waiting for fare outside of a hotel wouldn’t have done that,” Will said, but he squeezed Hannibal’s hand for the thought, and this worked just as well, anyway.

“I’d still like to be … thoughtful,” Hannibal said with a little smile at Will, and realized after last night, he was more in love with Will than ever.

“It was.” Will slipped their clasped hands beside them against the seat, mostly hidden in case the driver did get curious.

The rest of the ride was passed in comfortable silence, and Hannibal paid cash with a nice tip when they stopped at departures, and climbed out, with their luggage. The cab drove away, and Hannibal headed into the building with Will. “Best to get dropped here, if the driver did recognize us, it would seem we are heading out of the country.”

“Exactly,” Will agreed, as they walked at an even pace toward the long term parking, and then into the lot. It would not be easy to get a car with all the fancy alarms and gadgets most of them had. “We need something older,” he whispered to Hannibal as they tried to nonchalantly gaze over the aisles.

Hannibal sighed at that, disappointed as he eyed a Lexus, then saw Elias’s reflection in the window and walked away. He turned and saw a rather rough looking pickup truck that looked as though it had never seen a security system in it’s life. “No…” he sighed.

Will came up behind him and smiled, slipping a knife from the backpack he jimmied the lock and pried the door open. He got down on the foot of the driver’s side and untucked some cables, and in a few minutes the truck roared to life. “Good eye,” he said, patting Hannibal’s back, and pushed the passenger door open.

“W- Cal …” Hannibal protested, with a deeply disappointed look on his face before he climbed in. “I suppose, no one would believe this was stolen,” he sighed, and closed the door, unimpressed.

“Who steals a shitty truck?” Will asked as he closed the door and threw the packs into the back. “South or should we throw the trail off and head west a bit and then south?”

“West, and then South,” Hannibal confirmed, and crossed his legs. At least the truck had ample leg room. “I’m certain this … vehicle will blend in seamlessly there.”

“Midwest? Yeah, it will.” Starting the car up, Will took the ticket out of the windshield to get out of the lot, and drove up to the pay slot, hopped out, paid it, and then got back in, and drove to the exit. He slipped the ticket in and then drove off toward the freeway, heading west.

The truck was intensely loud. The big motor rumbled like it was hungry, and the entire vehicle shook a little as it moved. However, they were high enough off the ground that Hannibal noticed most people in cars didn’t bother looking up at them. “You’re enjoying this.”

“We said three star, this is probably just meeting three stars,” Will explained with a little smile over at Hannibal, reaching to squeeze his knee with one hand. “Just like the hotel was just over three stars.”

Hannibal smiled a little to himself, and reached to hold Will’s hand. “You enjoy seeing me squirm without my finery, just a little.”

“A little. Seeing you out of habitat is nice.” Will chanced a glance at Hannibal, finding him handsome even in the disguise.

Hannibal looked back at Will, amused. “I suppose I am beginning to see you in yours.”

“You weren’t looking before?” Will asked, but as the words came out of his mouth he realized Hannibal had only really been to his house a few times, never to fish or spend time either. “I suppose you are.”

“When we were together, it was usually either on a crime scene, or at my home or office,” Hannibal said, and laced their fingers together. “Your stunning good looks are even more remarkable surrounded by the mediocre.”

Will made a face a that, eyes on the road. “Thanks.”

“It was meant as a compliment,” Hannibal said, as he watched Will’s unusual reaction.

“I got it,” Will said,  quietly. “How much do you really know about me?”

“What do you mean by that?” Hannibal asked, curiously.

“What are-- what were the names of my dogs? Favorite color? We talked a lot, personally, but we never really talked about  _ those _ things,” Will said, garnering they weren’t that important, but he wanted to know. “What’s your favorite color? Red?”

“Scarlet,” Hannibal responded, and smiled a little at Will’s questions. “Winston, Buster, Luna, Poptart, Elmer, Frank, Sprinkles, and Ellie. I knew their names.”

“Color?” Will asked, more cheeky this time as they drove, threading his fingers together with Hannibal’s.

“Blue, most days. Sometimes green, but I think that may only be in the winter when you miss leaves on the trees,” Hannibal said, and gave Will a look, enjoying the little game.

Will smiled a little at the answer, eyes on the road. “I’d kiss for that answer, you know.”

“Would you?” Hannibal asked. “I’m willing to keep a tally. A kiss for every correct answer…”

“I’d kiss you either way,” Will chuckled, shaking his head. “What else do you know about me?”

“You brush your teeth with almost angry force, which means you go through toothbrushes faster than you should, but always forget to replace them until they are work down to nearly nothing.”

Will gave Hannibal a side eyed glance, brows furrowed a little. “How do you know that?”

“I’ve seen your toothbrushes,” Hannibal said with a smile.

“Years ago,” Will said, “not recently.”

“Habits are difficult to break, and your teeth are as white as ever,” Hannibal pointed out.

Will tongued slipped over his teeth subconsciously, and he looked over at Hannibal for a split second. “Tooth brushes were replaced every three months…”

“But the bristles would splay out, parting like hair down the middle. You also grind your teeth in your sleep, and begin the evening wearing socks, but kick them off in the middle of the night.”

“Did you spy on me?” Will asked, frowning a little now.

“No,” Hannibal said with a laugh, “but I did find a large collection of socks stuffed beneath the covers of your bedclothes when I watched the dogs, and your teeth are worn almost smooth in the back of your mouth.”

“It’s the night terrors,” Will said, meaning the clenching and the socks not staying on his feet.

“You did neither of them last night,” Hannibal said, and ran his thumb over the back of Will’s hand. “You mumbled in your sleep, but placidly, almost conversationally. At one point, you laughed.”

“Oh, did I?” Will said with a chuckle. “Did I say anything good?”

“I couldn’t make anything out, but your tone was pleasant,” Hannibal laughed. “It was charming. I confess, I did not sleep very much.” Sleeping with Will almost naked and wrapped around him had been too much of an experience to miss. Every tiny detail was etched in Hannibal’s mind. 

“Sorry,” Will murmured, shaking his head. “I’ll try to be less active tonight.”

“Don’t worry, I could have slept, I chose not to,” Hannibal reassured Will.

“Ah,” Will sighed, looking at Hannibal for a moment before changing to the interstate. “Sleep tonight?”

“Of course, provided we find a hotel with a mattress that does not make that impossible.”

“Maybe you’d prefer to lay on me instead,” Will snarked, with a teasing look over at Hannibal. He knew the other man had ideals about things, but after being locked up, could he really complain?

Hannibal smiled over at Will, and leaned closer to peel back his shirt collar so that the could kiss the bruises his mouth had left, yesterday, reminding Will that they were there. “I think I would enjoy that,” Hannibal murmured, lips brushing over Will’s throat.

Will stretched out his neck a little with that, biting the inside of his lip for a moment, as he tried to concentrate on the road while Hannibal aimed to distract. “Only fair.”

“Not to mention, we would be warm,” Hannibal murmured, and kissed the spot beneath Will’s ear as he drove the lumbering monstrosity of a truck down the freeway headed west.

“It will be cold in the midwest.” Not that it wasn’t cold in the east. Will sighed. “You’re enjoying this.”

“Perhaps,” Hannibal whispered, and bit Will’s earlobe, gently. “Only as much as you enjoy driving this beast of a truck,” he whispered, hand on Will’s thigh.

Will bit into his lip hard at that, hands nearly white knuckled against the wheel. There was no stopping now if they didn’t want the attention. “You’re getting back at me?”

“Not at all, just enjoying the opportunity as it presents itself,” Hannibal whispered, his moustache tickling Will’s ear as he let his large hand drift up Will’s thigh.

Will’s breath hitched, foot on the gas a little heavier as they sped along the freeway. “Same thing.”

“Revenge would be a petty pursuit,” Hannibal murmured, as his hand moved to Will’s balls, and he traced their shape with his fingers through the warm denim of Will’s jeans.

Another deep breath, and Will eased off the gas, his mind going to all the places they could stop and deal with this, but also aware that the FBI and Jack personally could be right behind them. “It would be.”

“You’re not suggesting I’m  _ petty _ , are you?” Hannibal whispered, fingers wandering up the zipper of Will’s fly.

“No, not petty,” Will answered, quietly, shifting his hips just  _ so _ .

Hannibal unzipped Will’s fly, and slid the button out of it’s hole, then caressed his cock through the thin fabric of his boxers. “What am I, then?”

“A tease maybe, a distraction,” Will mentioned, trying not to take his eye off the road, but Hannibal was very good at getting his mind to wander.

“Tease implies I am not willing to follow through,” Hannibal whispered, and undid the button that held Will’s boxers closed.

Hard already, Will’s cock sprung out into the cooler air as Will shifted his hips yet again at Hannibal’s implication. “You really enjoy doing this?”

“I’ve spent years staring at you, imagining what it might be like to touch you like this,” Hannibal whispered as he wrapped his hand around Will’s cock, and stroked it, slowly. “Of course I enjoy it.”

The urge to close his eyes and enjoy it himself was strong, but instead Will chanced a glance at Hannibal, hips arching into his palm. “I’m not complaining.”

Hannibal squeezed Will, and thumbed the tip of his cock. “If you were, I would stop, of course…”

“I’m not,” Will assured with a panted breath that hid the moan in his throat.

Hannibal could, of course, hear the way Will moaned, and breathed against the delicate shell of Will’s ear as he drove. “If you do not want me to stop, simply say ‘don’t stop’,” Hannibal whispered, seductively.

“Have I ever told you to stop?” Will asked, quietly, hand gripping tighter against the steering wheel as he stole a glance at Hannibal beside him, up close.

“Not yet,” Hannibal whispered, and kissed his way down Will’s neck, then bent over to breathe against Will’s cock as he stroked it.

Will dropped one hand to the back of Hannibal’s neck, the other still safely on the wheel as he changed lanes, the roads mostly clear and not a patrol car in sight. “And I won’t.”

Hannibal brushed his lips over the tip of Will’s cock, then his tongue, wet and rough before he swallowed Will, enveloping him in the hot, dark cavern of his infamous mouth. Hannibal took Will all the way down, inch by inch, and then began to suck his way back up.

“Fuck-” was all Will managed to get out as his fingers threaded through Hannibal’s wig, trying not to tug the damn thing off as heat started to pool in his core, spreading through his belly.

Hannibal groaned around Will, and took him down again, opening his throat to let Will press deeper inside him for a moment before he began to suck again, bobbing his head in faster motions.

Will grasped instead around the back of Hannibal’s neck, needing something to grasp onto of his as he drove. His breaths became ragged, already so built up, precome pooling at the rip of his cock. “Hannibal-”

Hannibal pulled back just enough to suck Will’s tip, hard, then plunged down around him again, and rolled Will’s balls in hand, tugging them.

Already aware that Hannibal would prefer to taste Will, he didn’t bother to warn him as the pleasure built to a boil, and he started to come, tensing all over, pressing on the gas for a moment until it was over.

Hannibal swallowed, with a moan, twice, then sat up and licked his lips, satisfied.

“Are you pleased with yourself?” Will asked, still breathing his breath as he slowed back down, watching his mirrors now for cops. He grinned coyly over at Hannibal.

“Yes,” Hannibal whispered as he savoured the taste of Will in his mouth. “Quite pleased with myself.”

Will shook his head as they drove, quiet for the next stretch, until finally they had to pull over for gas and a bathroom break. He got out to put gas in the car. “Can you give them forty dollars on six?” he asked Hannibal, handing him one of the packs with the money in it.

Hannibal looked at the gas station, and nodded, not at all used to having to go inside to pay. “Anything else?”

“Whatever you want or need,” Will said with a shrug, and waited by the truck with their things and got the cap off the truck to get started once the clerk put the money in.

Hannibal walked inside, and paid for the gas, then spotted something that made him smirk. He paid for the little item and two coffees, and walked back out to get into the truck.

He placed the small, plush toy dog on the driver’s seat, and their coffees in the cup holders, and waited. No one seemed to give them a second look.

Will pumped the gas to exactly forty and then put the cap back on and opened the truck door looking at the stuffed tiny dog. “What’s this?” he asked, picking it up as he got back inside. There was gleam in his blue eyes.

“A stray,” Hannibal answered while he sipped his coffee, gazing at Will over the rim. The stuffed dog looked like a husky, with two different colored eyes, one yellow and one blue.

Will smiled at that and set the dog on the dash, facing them. “Might be the only dog I have for a while.” He leaned over and kissed Hannibal’s cheek.

“Sacrifices must be made, on both sides,” Hannibal said and smiled at the kiss, then handed Will his coffee. It was hot and fresh, with just a little sugar. “He’s house trained.”

“Thank god, since we have a house and all,” Will murmured, taking the coffee for a sip real quick and then set it down again to put the truck into drive once more, headed back to the freeway. “Any weird looks?”

“Not one. Cell phones are wonderful, no one looks anyone in the eye any longer,” Hannibal chuckled, and looked back at the gas station.

“Good,” Will said as they drove onto the freeway again, not much traffic thankfully, and not too far from the gas station. Picking up his coffee, he took another long sip. Not the best, but fresh, so there was that.

“Where are we headed? Do you have a destination in mind?” Hannibal asked as he watched the landscape change through his window.

“Not really, I don’t want to go too far before we head south, but enough to throw Jack off the trail,” Will said, “see if there’s a map in the glove compartment?”

Hannibal opened the glove compartment and pulled out a handful of lottery tickets, a bag of sunflower seeds, a flashlight, and finally, a map. He replaced everything else, and unfolded the map, looking it over as Will drove. “If we travel through the southern tip of New York state, we would end up in Pennsylvania,” Hannibal said, thoughtfully.

“That’s pretty close to home,” Will said, mulling it over a moment. “We should go as far west as Ohio maybe, and then head down south?”

Hannibal peered at the map thoughtfully, and licked his lips, then nodded his agreement. “We would avoid anywhere our faces might be too familiar, and the land near the Canadian border, which could very well be crawling with agents. Ohio it is,” he agreed.

“So just keep going west for a bit,” Will said, though really that was south west for the moment until the  freeway levels out across. “Our best bet.”

Hannibal examined the map a little more closely and took the phone to search for what to expect on the route. “It will take eleven and a half hours, if you don’t mind mountainous terrain.”

“Who minds the mountains?” Will asked, driving with one hand as he sipped more of his coffee.

“It seems we’ll be driving near the Catskills, but not going through the thickest, highest part of the range, thankfully. I’m not certain the truck could withstand it,” Hannibal said, with a pointed look at a spot of rust on his door handle.

“Probably not. Let’s hope there isn’t much snow,” Will sighed. “Check phone for roadblocks and police stops.”

"It’s as though you’ve read my mind,” Hannibal murmured with a wry tone. “I was doing just that.”

He frowned at the phone, and shifted his jaw. “It will not allow me to search for roadblocks, specifically, but our path toward the south is gridlocked for a reason that has nothing to do with rush hour, or a traffic accident, and it occurs abruptly at the Connecticut border.”

He looked at Will. “It could be a roadblock of some kind. Even if it is not intended for us, we’d be wise to avoid it. Neither of us carries a driver’s license.”

“That’s true. What an alternative route or are we going to need to stop?” Will asked, only focused on driving at the moment and not getting pulled over.

“Stay on I-90, it will branch to the right before the sudden slowing of traffic, allowing us to take a detour to the north, toward Albany, New York. We will be able to correct our course south using a much less popular route, which may be wisest. Of course, this will take us deeper into the mountain range.”

“Better than being stopped,” Will murmured, staying on course for the moment. “Let me know a bit before we get to the detour so I don’t miss it.”

“It won’t be for quite a while, yet, so long as you remain on I-90, we are safe,” Hannibal assured Will, with a soft smile at him as he watched Will’s profile.

“Just going to drive then unless we need a pee break or something,” Will explained, setting his now finished coffee down, and leaned one arm against the door as he drove.

Hannibal chuckled and nodded, then took Will’s hand in his. “That sounds fine,” he said, and searched the news with the phone, scanning for mention of them. “An interview with Jack … “

“What’s he saying?” Will asked, rolling his eyes a little at the thought of what Jack had to say.

Hannibal turned up the volume on the phone and pressed play on the clip.    
  
Jack’s voice was still authoritative, even through the tiny speaker as he addressed the reporter who had found him. “Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter are presumed dead after the hard evidence we found at the scene of Dolarhyde’s killing. However, given the public concern over the chance they could have survived, and what we know they are capable of together, we are taking all sightings seriously. I’d advise the public not to approach either of them, just alert the authorities, we will handle it from there.”

“Nice. So we’re dead but because people think they’ve seen us, they are assuming…” Will sighed, shaking his head.

“They’re not ruling out that we found a way to survive,” Hannibal sighed. “I think Jack is looking for us, but he does not want that information spread among the news outlets. He came to look for us in Canada, after all.”

“Yes, but why worry the public?” Will shrugged, but looked over at Hannibal. “He really thinks we’d mindlessly hurt people.”

“Jack is hardly as nuanced as one would hope,” Hannibal sighed, and nodded to Will that this was the point where the roads diverged, to the south lay a possible trap. “This is our point, stay to the right.”

Will stayed right in the fork, patting Hannibal’s thigh for letting him know. “That’s true. We avoid as much as we can. He does have more at his disposal though, so we need to be careful.”

“And so, we are,” Hannibal said with a little smile at the way Will patted his leg. “Did you just pat me, as you might pat one of your dogs for doing something you wanted me to do?” Hannibal asked, amused.

Will took his hand back with a scowl, back on the wheel. “No.”

Hannibal sighed, and rested his hand on Will’s thigh. “You miss them.”

Quiet for a moment, Will finally opened up a little. “When when I had no one, I at least had my dogs… my pack.”

“Do you feel you have abandoned them?” Hannibal asked, gently.

“Yes,” Will admitted with a swallow and then let out a sigh. “Molly will take care of them. She’s… capable.”

“But not the way you would,” Hannibal said, knowingly. They were just dogs to someone like Molly. They were family to Will.

“I make their foods, she buys canned food,” Will offered, as a comparison to prove the point. “She loves them, but it’s different.”

“They are dogs to her. They are your family, your children to you,” Hannibal said, knowingly, and with a level of compassion that surprised even himself. As strange as it might seem to him, the dogs, at least some of them were to Will what Mischa had been to him, or close to it. Will had left them behind, for Hannibal. 

For a rare moment, Hannibal was … humbled.

“Yeah,” Will said, giving the tiny plush dog on the dash a look, a frown evident on his deep features. “But they’ll be fine. Most of them are older, they can live their last years out by the lake with her and Wally.”

Hannibal reached for Will’s hand, and held it in his own. “When we find a place to make a life, you can have a dog … or two,” Hannibal teased, softly.

Will gave Hannibal a fleeting look. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying,” Hannibal said, watching Will. “You gave up the beings that meant the most to you, I would be rude not to compromise.”

“I guess we’ll see,” Will said, not sure if he believed at any point that they would get at least one dog. Maybe when they settled, as having dogs on the road that might make them more noticeable wasn’t the best idea.

Hannibal consulted the map again, “Albany is an hour away, but there is a road approaching that will allow us to traverse the Hudson river and head south again.”

“You’re the guide,” Will said, trusting Hannibal to lead them.

“Take the next left, it’s a much quieter road. We’ll cross a toll bridge,” Hannibal advised, and sipped his coffee, then made a disgusted sound when his false nose bumped against the lid of the cup. 

“Take the lid off,” Will suggested, putting his signal on to get off the road at the exit. “It’ll be easier.”  
Hannibal wiped his nose, and removed the lid of his cup, then took a sip, and looked at himself in the passenger side mirror. “The day I can throw this ridiculous wig and nose into a fire will be a welcome event.”

“We’ll have a celebration,” Will chuckled, for now forgetting about dogs and the home he left behind, and reached to take Hannibal’s free hand.

Hannibal squeezed Will’s hand, and ran his thumb over the side of Will’s wrist, comfortingly. “Do you regret your choice to leave?” he asked, softly.

“No.” Will took a deep breath. “I miss my dogs, that’s all.”

Hannibal nodded, able to understand that Will might miss them in the way he missed Mischa, and leaned over in the cab of the truck to kiss his cheek. “That is … understandable.”

“I wouldn’t trade anything right now than to be with you, though,” Will insisted, and just being with Hannibal was a huge risk in and of itself.

Hannibal kissed Will, again, and saw the toll bridge looming ahead. “Nor would I, not even decent coffee,” he whispered, and reached into the glove box, looking around, and found a pair of sunglasses, which he gave to Will. “Your eyes are distinctive, to say the least.”

Will took them and slipped them on, which actually made him look strange, or so he thought. He put his hand out for money for the toll as they got in line to wait to pay and pass through.

Hannibal handed Will a twenty, and then laughed to himself as he found a terrible looking trucker’s cap under his seat, and handed it over. “I’m not the only one who should look awful, please, join me,” he chuckled as he fitted the cap on Will’s head. It said “Ray’s Trucking” across the top.

Will scowled a little, almost reminded of his fishing hat, but didn’t say that as they rolled up to the window. He handed the bill over to the lady who gave him cash back and sent him through. He thanked her and drove on.

“Easy.”

“This time, yes,” Hannibal replied, and looked at Will in his cap and shades, then took a photo with the camera, admiring him. “It is impossible to ruin your looks.”

“I could say the same, but you’d never believe me,” Will said with a smirk at Hannibal as they drove through, these streets a bit less busy.

Hannibal just chuckled and shook his head. “Elias is rather homely, I’ve accepted that, and applaud you for tolerating it.”

“We’ve only been at it two days now,” Will pointed out, eyes on the road. “Think you can keep up appearances for longer?”

“If I must,” Hannibal sighed as they crossed the bridge over the wide, swift Hudson river, and Hannibal took another sip of his coffee. “After we exit the bridge, make a left hand turn at the first major intersection. That will lead us to a quieter highway heading south, toward the Catskill mountains.”

They drove over the bridge and Will took the turn where suggested, just a bit of snow on the sides of the roads, which was hopeful for the rest of the mountain. “And then just stay on there?”

“For quite a while, yes, barring any surprises,” Hannibal said, as he unfolded the map again, and shifted in his seat to cross his legs the other way. Somehow, he still managed to look poised and elegant in his disguise and the beat up pickup truck.

“If we are asked, we’re searching for new territory for our Meyerist camps,” Will commented, trying to keep clear lines with their backstory together.

“That sounds plausible. The area strikes me, from what I’ve seen of it on the phone as a refuge for those seeking a refuge from urban life. It must be beautiful in the summer months.”

“A shame we won’t be here to see it then,” Will murmured, leaning to turn the heat up a little as it got cooler in the truck the further they got into the mountains.

“Perhaps once the search for us has calmed, in a few years, we can risk a trip,” Hannibal said, softly, and finished his now cold coffee.

“You’d want to? Lots of fishing I’d bet,” Will mused with a little wisp of a smile.

"Apparently the Catskills are the birthplace of fly fishing,” Hannibal laughed, and gave Will a look.

“Is that right?” Will asked with a smirk, knowing full well it wasn’t the season for it, but he could dream a little.

“It’s on the internet, it must be true,” Hannibal said with a little gleam in his eyes. He enjoyed making Will laugh, and had since the first time Will had come to his office.

“Must be. I’ll do some research later,” Will said with a little smirk over at Hannibal and then eyes back on the road that started to wind around the mountains.

“A pity it’s not warmer. Of course, Jack could be checking in for anyone of your description at fishing centres,” Hannibal paused. “Does one need a licence for that sort of thing?”

“Sometimes, but no one really checks that often unless you go to a designated spot for it,” Will explained, chuckling at the ‘fishing centre’.

“What is so funny?” Hannibal asked, perplexed.

“They’re called fishing spots, or holes, whatever, but it’s hardly a centre. It’s cute, I like it,” Will said with a glance over at Hannibal.

Hannibal rolled his eyes, but smiled. “It means the same thing, a center for fishing.”

“If you want to be licensed to fish, yeah. You can find areas that are designated,” Will chided teasingly.

“I have no need to fish, I have you,” Hannibal teased back.

“Oh. So if I’m in a coma and we only have fish in the lake near us, you are going to do what exactly?” Will asked, with a smirk over at his companion.

“If you were in a coma, I am not about to concern myself with fishing, Will,” Hannibal pointed out. “I’d be stealing medical supplies, like any man in love.”

Will turned his head a little to look out at the mountains close in around them, and smiled, a blush creeping over his cheeks. “I see…”

"You are beginning to, yes,” Hannibal whispered, and kissed Will’s jaw, then nuzzled his throat.

Will’s free hand came up to cup Hannibal’s jaw and keep him just there, stroking his jaw. “I am. I’m trying.”

Hannibal knew, as hard as it was to believe, that it was likely that Will was still in the process of realizing the depth of Hannibal’s adoration of him. He kissed Will’s throat again, softly, and took a deep breath of his clean, smooth skin. “I do love the smell of your skin.”

It’d been years of Will assuming one thing and now faced with another. It was strange to have his own feelings reciprocated, and wanted, when he thought it would never happen. “I wouldn’t have guessed, you’ve been smelling me for years.”

“Dogs also tie scent to identity, much more strongly than most humans do. In that way, I can understand how they are all so drawn to you,” Hannibal reasoned, and planted another kiss on the side of Will’s throat while he drove down the quieter stretch of highway. They were surrounded by less buildings now, and more trees and rolling hills.

“That’s true. Could you sniff me out if I were hiding?” Will asked, mostly amused.

“I’m certain I could,” Hannibal whispered, and kissed the spot where he could feel Will’s pulse.

Will chuckled a little at that, and touched Hannibal’s scruffy jaw once more, affectionately. “That’s a good thing to have in case we get separated.”

“I would find you,” Hannibal promised, against Will’s ear, and wrapped his long arm around Will’s shoulders as he drove. He never imagined he would feel bliss in an ugly disguise, riding in the cab of a rusty truck, but here he was.

“We always seem to be honed in on each other,” Will mentioned, comfortable to be like this, with nothing between them, no secrets, no lies, just opened and raw-- perfect.

“You found me, easily,” Hannibal whispered, and then smiled against Will’s neck. “You built a ship and sailed across the ocean to find me. I doubt I will ever hear of anything more obsessive, or more romantic.”

Will laughed heartily at that. “That’s one way to put it. You were the only thing on my mind. Everyone thought I was going there because they wanted me to, but I was going because I needed you.”

Hannibal kissed the corner of Will’s lips for that, and nuzzled his ear this time. “I was miserable, until you found me. I had no reason to be miserable, but my favourite city in the world felt empty without you.”

Biting his tongue to keep from saying what he wanted, Will merely scraped his teeth over the thin skin of his bottom lip with a hum.

Hannibal noticed, and kissed Will’s jaw for it. “I am far happier here in this truck with this ridiculous disguise, and no luxury at all,” he promised, honestly.

“Are you?” Will asked, honestly, no resentfulness to his tone.

“Yes, by far,” Hannibal said, with a soft kiss to the spot where Will’s jaw hinged, in front of his ear.

“Good. That will make eating  _ her _ later much easier,” Will said, eyes on the road ahead of them, as it began to swerve a little, both hands on the wheel.

“I have no qualms at all about eating her,” Hannibal said, honestly.

“I know a good Kalua pork recipe,” Will sneered, just so, his lip curling at the thought.

Hannibal smiled at Will, and touched the spot where his lip curled up in a sneer. “I’d love to taste it. Perhaps something with the thigh muscles, or an entire roast leg…”

“Either, or all,” Will suggested with a snap of his teeth at Hannibal’s finger, changing a side glance at him, almost playfully.

“She could even try a little of it,” Hannibal purred, and felt his heart beat faster when Will looked at him like that.

“Make her eat herself? Like Mason?” Will quirked a brow.

“A last meal,” Hannibal said, with a little smile. “I’d hate for her not to see how happy we are together.”

Another laugh from Will, shaking him from his impending sour mood. “She’d hate that.”

“She would despise every second of it,” Hannibal agreed, and nipped at Will’s ear, sweetly.

Flushing a deep crimson, Will stole a very quick kiss from Hannibal and then his eyes were on the road again. “Once we've settled.”

“Precisely,” Hannibal said, and took another look at the road before the red and blue lights of a few police cars became visible over the crest of the hill they were on. Hannibal straightened, and checked the time. It was becoming evening now, too early for a sobriety check. “Perhaps a right turn at the next road would be wise.”

The police were quite a distance away, and one narrow road headed into the woods lay between their truck and the bright lights of law enforcement. 

“Yeah,” Will said, taking the next turn off into some other road into the mountains themselves. “Might have to stay in town.”

“It’s likely just an accident, but best not to take the chance,” Hannibal sighed, and looked at the snowy mountains. “A small town might be hazardous. We’ll stand out,” he reasoned.    
  
Admittedly, the scenery became more and more stunning as they drove into it, thick forests of snowy trees lined the narrow road, and the mountains grew more detailed and majestic as they neared them.

“What do you suggest then?” Will asked, driving for the moment until something came along. “At best we need gas soon.”

“An isolated house would be best,” Hannibal.said, and looked at the gas gauge.

“Another cabin,” Will mused, chewing the inside of his cheek over the knotted scar there.

“Whatever we can find for the night,” Hannibal agreed, and watched Will chew at his cheek. He reached over to touch the spot, reminding Will not to irritate it.

“Keep your eyes peeled then for me,” Will sighed, hoping they found something soon, his eyes were starting to get tired from the driving.

“Try the next road up there, near the fallen tree,” Hannibal suggested.

“Fallen tree… oh I see it,” Will said, going just beyond the tree and then took the left there, and beyond more trees was a worn down little  _ shack _ .

“That is barely a cabin,” Hannibal said, skeptically.

“Not something they’ll find us in, or think to find us in,” Will offered, pulling up to the house and then parked it behind a tree, out of sight from the road.

Hannibal sighed, but supposed Will was right, in that regard. “If there are raccoons, I am staying in the truck.”

“Where a bear might getcha?” Will asked, with a big grin on his face, getting out of the truck, gun drawn, just in case.

Hannibal heaved a sigh, and followed Will. It was good to move after riding for so long. “Bears are respectable predators. Raccoons are vermin.”

“Raccoons can be taught to be pets,” Will explained, “Though they are mostly a nuisance.” He quickly crept around the outside of the house with his gun drawn, checking every corner, before jimmying the lock and getting into the house. Nothing, dusty and musty. “No one’s been here in awhile.”

“Likely a year,” Hannibal said as he stepped inside, and took a deep breath of the dusty air. “There is a fireplace, thankfully.”

“That’s something. We only have the smoked fish left,” Will said, going out to the truck to get their packs and brought them back. He started to rummage through the cupboards and cabinets.

“A shame you have no fishing accouterments,” Hannibal said, as he helped Will look for matches, then found a box on the mantle and shook it before pulling one out and striking it. He found a few candles and lit them, then placed them around the room. The shabby little cabin was sparsely furnished, but there was a bed in one room, and a kitchen in the other, with a bathroom to the side. That was it.

“Couple cans of food,” Will sighed, not sure if they were any good, but it couldn’t hurt to check them out. “No central heat. We’ll have get cozy.”

"I’m not opposed to the idea,” Hannibal said, as he found a stack of firewood in the corner and began to stack it in the fireplace, artfully, then opened the flu and lit the logs, which began to crackle immediately.

“I didn’t think you would be,” Will said with a little smirk, getting out his utility knife to pop open the cans, the food still good inside. “Well we have smoked fish and beans and corn for dinner.”

Hannibal inspected the bed, which had a couple of blankets and a couple of pillows, nothing more than that. He pulled his wig off, and removed the false nose with a sigh of relief, then rubbed the remnants of the glue from his face. “That will have to do for now, unless we encounter someone particularly rude, of course,” he joked.

“Let’s hope we don’t encounter anyone,” Will sighed, taking the hat off finally and set it and the shades aside as he found bowls and cleaned them, and then stuck the canned contents into them to heat over the fire.

Hannibal shook his straight, shiny hair out and sat on the edge of the bed. “I agree. I doubt very much I’d have anything to cook properly with here,” Hannibal said, dryly, and smiled at Will in the glow of the fire. 

Snow began to fall outside, in large, fluffy flakes against the deepening blue sky and the black of the trees that surrounded the cabin. 

“I hope we don’t get snowed in,” the empath sighed, bringing the bowl over to sit over the fire.

“You are a woodsman, and I am ruthless,” Hannibal murmured as he wrapped his arm around Will’s back. “We would survive,” he assured Will, with a kiss to his cheek, and took a deep breath of his skin.

“I know we will. I can, anyway,” Will teased, letting the food warm through on the hearth. “It’s just a little snow.”

“I’m hardly helpless,” Hannibal teased back, comfortably. “But, I concede to your expertise in the matter. Besides, there’s something alluringly masculine about thinking of you chopping wood, or hunting for dinner.”

Laughing, Will leaned over to stir the beans, and then sat back, undoing the buttons of his collared shirt, all the way down to his chest. “While you watch from the window in your apron?” he smirked.

“Is there an apron here?” Hannibal asked with a smirk and a little look at the kitchen. “Yes. The apron, and only the apron.” 

He admired Will’s laughing face in the firelight, utterly captivated by him.

Will swallowed that notion down with an audible gulp, casting a side eye at Hannibal. “You wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Hannibal asked, as his eyes traveled down to Will’s exposed chest, then back up to his face.

“Too bad there isn’t an apron or a rifle for me to go out hunting,” Will said with a little grin, sitting back in the chair, the shirt falling open a little more.

Hannibal leaned closer and ran his hand down the open front of Will’s shirt, palming his chest. “We do have the gun, it might suffice for something small.”

“A squirrel maybe,” Will chuckled, chest going up and down as he did, under Hannibal’s touch, his skin flushed.

“That would be an interesting culinary challenge,” Hannibal laughed, and undid another one of Will’s buttons as the firelight played over his elegant features.

“And not the best either. Not much on squirrels.” Will's eyes flitted to Hannibal as he was slowly undressed by him, button by button.

Hannibal undid Will’s shirt, slowly, and untucked it from his jeans, then undid his sleeves at the wrist, where they were buttoned up tightly. “I’m sure we’ll make due,” Hannibal murmured, and peeled Will’s shirt off to look at the healing bite over Will’s heart. It would be brutal and beautiful when it healed.

“How's it look, Doctor?” Will asked, quietly skin quivering slightly at the touches, so clinical and yet so intimate.

“Beautiful. It will leave a very clear scar, unmistakable teeth marks,” Hannibal murmured, as he stroked his fingertips around the sensitive, healing skin, then pulled Will closer for a kiss.

Will smile against Hannibal's mouth slowly, kissing him with one hand against the back of his neck. “Claimed.”

“Taken, forever,” Hannibal whispered and kissed Will more slowly, one hand cupped behind his head.

Will groaned at that, pulling Hannibal over his lap, into his arms, as the kiss grew heated and heavy. “Always.’”

Hannibal moved into Will’s lap, straddling him, and kissed Will deeply as the smell of their improvised dinner filled the air. Will’s fingers clenched into Hannibal’s hips and ground up against him, biting at his lips.

“Dinner will burn,” Hannibal whispered, softly, and ground against Will, slowly.

“Then get off me,” Will whispered playfully, biting at Hannibal’s lips.

“Make me,” Hannibal teased back, distracted by the feeling of Will’s teeth.

Will sucked Hannibal’s lip between his teeth and bit down hard, groaning. “No.”

Hannibal groaned at that, and rolled himself against Will more insistently, the bite making him go obviously hard under his trousers. Will undid Hannibal’s pants and then his shirt, feeling up his stomach and chest as he kissed him harder, pulling him down into it. Food forgotten.

Hannibal slipped his shirt off, and tossed it to the floor beneath him before he cupped Will’s face with both hands, and kissed him hard as Will’s hands roved over his chest, nipples going as hard as his cock.

“Bed,” Will whispered, gripping Hannibal’s ass through his trousers, squeezing hard.

“Yes…” Hannibal gasped. So turned on by the way Will was pawing at him that he could barely think enough to stand up. He managed, and pulled Will out of the chair, then over to the bed. Hannibal laid on it, and pulled Will over him, breathing hard, both of them lit by firelight.

Will crawled over Hannibal, grinding down against him, unable to get the enough of him from earlier that day. “God, Hannibal.”

Hannibal pulled Will’s shirt off, completely, and then undid Will’s jeans before he pulled Will down to kiss him, full on the mouth. “I love the feeling of your teeth,” he confessed, against Will’s well-kissed lips.

“Where?” Will asked, heaving a breath against Hannibal’s neck, as his clothes fell to a pile on the floor, both luxuriously naked.

“Everywhere,” Hannibal whispered, and arched his neck up, toward Will’s mouth, begging him silently to sink his teeth in. “When you tore Cordell’s cheek out … I was nearly jealous,” he smirked.

“You were proud,” Will whispered and bit Hannibal’s throat, slowly, sucking a bruise into it, unlike anyway he had anyone before, marring him.

Hannibal wound one leg around Will’s as Will bit and sucked at his throat, his breath going short at the feeling. “Of course … “ he moaned, and scratched his nails over Will’s back, marking the sheet of muscle between Will’s shoulder blades.

“I’d only want to do that to you now,” Will whispered as he bit harder into Hannibal’s collarbone, nothing that would be seen when he was wearing clothes, something private. Hannibal felt his toes curl, and arched his hips against Will as Will’s teeth sank a little deeper into his skin. His fingers curled to tug at Will’s hair, which was too short, and Hannibal felt blood throb under the bite. “Is that a promise?”

“Yes,” Will groaned as blood stained his teeth. And he rutted down against him.

Hannibal held Will tight, greedily, and then reached between them to stroke their cocks together. The pain of Will’s teeth made everything sharper, clearer, and the rub and press of their cocks together felt heavenly as a little blood rolled down Hannibal’s collarbones, over his shoulder.

Will panted as he lapped up blood and pressed their cocks together, reaching between them to stroke, gently, at first, long and languid. “Tell me what you like…”

“Everything with you,” Hannibal whispered, his voice cracking with ecstasy as he arched and writhed under Will. “Your calloused hands, your teeth, the glint in your eyes when you’re angry, your lips…” Hannibal managed to breathe out. They were tangled up in one another, almost inseparable, the line between them blurring.

“You find me attractive when I’m angry with you?” Will said, quietly, stroking them both with his fist, thumbing over wet tips, smearing it around. He bit over Hannibal’s heart, on his chest, with a little snarl as his teeth sunk in.

Hannibal gasped, and arched up, his chest heaving as he panted when Will’s teeth sunk in. “Yes-”

Fair was fair--  _ even _ . Will bit harder, blood trickling into his mouth, as his tongue lathed against the wound he was creating, deep enough to scar.

Something in Lithuanian escaped Hannibal’s lips, and he clutched Will’s shoulders with both hands as his head fell back in a state of utter bliss at the feeling of being marked by Will. Will’s teeth burned, perfectly, it was primal and raw, and Hannibal could feel himself about to come.

Hannibal’s heavier breathing excited the empath as he rolled his hips forward into his own hand, sliding their cocks together in a fast rhythm, picking up the past as he swallowed the drops of Hannibal’s blood in his mouth.

“Will-” Hannibal gasped, brokenly, and dug his nails into the flesh of Will’s shoulder as his back arched higher and higher and then shouted wordlessly as he came against Will’s cock and hand, his remarkable brain going utterly, blissfully blank for a moment.

Will pulled his teeth and mouth off, watching Hannibal with blood staining his lips, panting as he spread his hands through the come on his fingers, over Hannibal's sensitive cock. 

Hannibal turned Will’s face up toward him, and kissed his bloodied mouth the way he’d wanted to on the cliffside, passionately and with everything he had as his body shivered, shuddered, and began to relax.

“Hannibal…” Will managed to whisper as they lips and teeth crashed together and clicked,  tongues twirling, deeper and longer, passionately.

Hannibal reached down to take Will’s cock as they kissed, feverishly, and stroked him. “Now we match…”

“Yes-” Will breathed, completely worked up by Hannibal, just tasting him, tasting his blood on his tongue… He panted against Hannibal’s mouth as he hitched his hips into his palm.

“I want to taste you,” Hannibal whispered, breathlessly, eager for the taste of Will’s orgasm with the taste of his own blood.

Breathless, Will rolled to his side, pulling Hannibal over him for another long kiss, giving him permission to do as he pleased, ultimately trusting him.

Hannibal moved over Will, and kissed his way down to Will’s thighs, which he nuzzled, then began to lick long, hot lines up the length of Will’s cock to the tip, which he sucked. Will was already slick there, musky and salty. The taste of him mixed with the faint taste of Hannibal’s blood in his own mouth.

Will clenched fingers into Hannibal’s hair, hips rising when his mouth met the sensitive tip of his cock, pushing in for more, already so close. “Hannibal-”

Hannibal’s chest bled against Will’s thigh, the scent of it filling the air as Hannibal swirled his tongue around Will’s cock and looked up at him as he sucked, and took Will’s length into his mouth by turns. His hands squeezed at Will’s hips, nails dragging little red marks in Will’s pale skin.

Groaning out loudly, Will held onto Hannibal’s hair as he reached the edge, spilling over in droves of hot white heat, gasping. “Fuck-”

Hannibal ground his tongue against Will’s tip as Will came. An explosion of the taste of Will hit Hannibal like a wave, and he moaned as he swallowed, then licked Will clean, slowly, and swallowed again before he pulled his mouth off and rested his head against the scar on Will’s stomach.

Smoothing his hands through Hannibal’s hair, Will soothed his own breathing, stomach still tense and heart pumping hard as he breathed. “I don’t know that I’ll get tired of that.”

Hannibal looked up at Will with dark, satisfied eyes, and kissed the scar. “There is so much more.”

Will let out a breathy chuckle. “I’m sure there is…” He knew eventually they would get there, but until then, this was nice.

“No need to rush,” Hannibal murmured, and planted warm kisses along the smile he’d left Will, then worked his way up to lay over him with a sigh, still bleeding from the bite wound that throbbed in his chest.

“Okay,” Will whispered, watching Hannibal closely as he gazed up at him. “We should try to clean that.”

“Is there running water available?” Hannibal asked, too content to be as concerned about it as he really should be.

“I don’t know, I’m sure there’s well water,” Will suggested, but didn’t want to move just yet, it was warm and they were so naked, it was easy to just curl up for now…

“We’d have to boil it,” Hannibal sighed, and snuggled Will, both of them basking in the afterglow, wrapped up in one another.

“That could take a while, I could start it now, the food should be heated,” Will offered, taking Hannibal’s face in his hands to kiss him again slowly.

Hannibal lost himself in the slow, sweet kiss that made his head spin, and nodded before he kissed Will, sweeping their tongues together. “If only you could do that without leaving the bed.”

“I’m not magic, unfortunately,” Will murmured, kissing Hannibal one more time before slipping out from under him. “We both need to eat and take our meds anyway.”

Hannibal sighed his agreement, and laid in bed, more tired than he had realized. Will moved around slowly, leaving Hannibal’s pills next to him with the bottle of water, and then got a pot and put water in it, removing the food from the fire and replacing it with the pot.

Will plated up the food, leaving one for Hannibal next to the pills.

“Thank you,” Hannibal murmured, as he sat up to eat the strange dinner they’d managed. He tried a little of the fish first, which wasn’t bad at all. “Did you smoke this yourself?”

“Yes. At the first cabin. All we had really,” Will answered, sitting down after taking his own meds, and eating with gusto, starved.

Hannibal took his medication, and had a little more of the fish. “It’s quite good,” he said, in a mildly surprised tone. “You’ve never cooked for me, before.”

“I’ve cooked  _ with _ you,” Will offered, quietly, and pointed at the beans. “I know you don’t like canned, but we need the calories.”

“With me, yes,” Hannibal said, and tried some of the beans. They were not as good as the fish, of course, but Will was right, they both needed to eat as much as they could right now. “Who was it we put in the Lomo Saltado instead of Freddie?” Hannibal asked, conversationally.

“Tier,” Will murmured around a bite of food, not liking it much himself but it was something, and his stomach was growling loudly for more.

Hannibal nodded as he ate, making due with what they had, just as he had made due in prison. “We’ll have to make it again, someday.”

“I hope to,” Will said with a smile, finishing his meal, and then took his plate to wipe clean in the small garbage there and then set it in the sink to wash.

Hannibal watched Will’s naked body as he moved into the tiny kitchen, and then finished his food, and walked after him, stiffly. Snow was falling thicker and harder now, clinging to the branches of the trees near the window. “It is beautiful,” Hannibal mused, reminded of winters as a child in the castle in Lithuania.

“It is, but it could keep us here if it snows too much,” Will sighed, though he had a feeling the police wouldn’t man hunt to an old shack.

“It will also keep others away, and cover our path, destroying evidence of where we’ve gone,” Hannibal pointed out, as he kissed the back of Will’s neck, tenderly.

“We could be here longer than we wanted to be,” Will sighed, but pressed back against Hannibal, seeking his warmth in the otherwise still warming room.

Hannibal wrapped both arms around Will, and held him to his bloodied chest. “Then we will make the best of it. Luckily, we are both hunters,” Hannibal said, against Will’s ear.

Will chuckled, and turned in Hannibal’s arms, kissing him softly. “We are. We’ll survive. We have so far.”

“We have very good reasons to persist,” Hannibal whispered, staring at Will, intently, then touched his cheek.

“Let's get that bite cleaned,” Will whispered back, the water more than boiling by now, steaming over the fire.

“Do we have salt?” Hannibal asked, as he took a seat on the bed.

Will searched and nodded, handing the table salt to Hannibal as he carefully took the boiling pot of water off the fire. “Right here.”

“I’ll need some of that water in a clean vessel, heavily salted,” Hannibal said, aware that it was going to sting.

“Sure,” Will said, pulling on his boxers as he went to find a clean bowl, and then poured some of the boiling water into it and dumped in a good portion of salt. “What else?”

“The cleanest cloth possible,” Hannibal said, looking into the bowl of salt water that steamed into the air.

Will set the bowl on the table and went in search of cloths. In his search he found fishing gear in one closet, for ice fishing, and set it aside. Another closet bore towels and linens, so he took one of those and shook it out. “Will this do?”

“Where did you find that?” Hannibal.asked with a smile, relieved that they had towels. He soaked a corner of the towel in the salty mixture, then laid it over his wound.

“What? The gear? One of the closets. I should check them all, who knows what’s in here,” Will shrugged.

“Things may not be quite as bleak as we thought,” Hannibal said, wincing as the salt sank into the bite.

Will started to go through the house, room-by-room, searching every drawer and closet, cabinets and sinks. He returned a bit later with an older first aid kit and sat it down in front of Hannibal. “This might help.”

“Perfect,” Hannibal sighed from where he sat on the bed, and opened the kit when Will gave it to him. Inside was disinfectant, bandages, and some aspirin. Hannibal.removed the towel and began to clean his wound with disinfectant, instead. “Much better. What else did you find?”

“Clothes, not sure they’ll fit either of us, but a few pairs of boots that might,” Will answered, though he’d found not much of anything else that was useful to them.

“I’ll take whatever is available, considering the storm outside,” Hannibal said, and began to bandage his chest, lightly, just enough that it would not become infected before it crusted over.

“Our clothes are worn and gross by now,” Will said, and went to go through what was there, obviously an older man lived here, alone maybe, who knows he could have died…

Will brought out the clothes, a pile of things, for them to try. 

Hannibal looked at the pile, and pulled a robe out, something soft and thick, and wrapped it around himself. It was hardly elegant, but it was white, which was striking with Hannibal’s naturally bronzed skin and dark eyes. “This will do for tonight.”

“Hopefully just the night,” Will laughed, and set out clothes to try later on, good thing he had a belt. “I’ll try to fish in the morning if the snow isn’t too bad. There’s bound to be an ice fishing spot close by.”

“A shame there are no eggs,” Hannibal chuckled, and laid in the bed, cozy now with the fire crackling away in the fireplace, and the sound of the wind howling outside.

“Any eggs left here would be… rotten by now,” Will chuckled, and crawled into bed with Hannibal, tired and cold now.

Hannibal pulled Will closer to him, and kissed his forehead. “We’ll manage with fish,” Hannibal murmured, exhausted, and guided Will so that he laid over the good side of Hannibal’s chest.

“Just until we can find eggs elsewhere,” Will promised, with a yawn, curling around Hannibal, listening to his heartbeat against his chest.

“I would rather eat food from a can and be with you than dine on five star room service alone,” Hannibal murmured, and stroked his fingers over Will’s cropped hair.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Will whispered, moving so he could look up at Hannibal just so, arm around his waist gently.

“I had never imagined I could love anyone quite this much,” Hannibal said, with a smile in his tired eyes. “Here I am. You’ve changed me.”

“As you have me,” Will agreed, curling his leg over Hannibal’s hip, carefully. He kissed Hannibal’s chest and closed his eyes. “I love you.”

Hannibal felt the words he never thought he would hear from Will land like snowflakes, and settle in his mind palace under glass to be kept perfect, forever. “I love you, Will.”


	5. Chapter 5

Dawn began to shine through the windows of the tiny, stone cabin. The light, pale and white, shone through the branches of the forest and onto the foot of the bed Will and Hannibal slept in, holding each other while they slumbered.   
  
A large shadow came closer, and blocked out the light completely, and then something began to tap against the glass.

Will rolled over, the noise waking him a little, bringing him to consciousness. He was about to fall back asleep when he heard it again, and peeked open an eye. “What is that?”

Hannibal opened one eye, and listened as the tapping began again, against the window. “A bird tapping on the glass,” he sighed, and seemed to go back to sleep.

Will could hope that as the case. He couldn't go back to sleep now that he was awake however, and slipped out of the covers slowly. “I'll double check.”

Hannibal turned onto his other side, and sat up just in time to see what Will would see in the window: an enormous stag breathing against the glass, his breath fogging the panes as the tips of his antlers tapped the window. “Our new neighbor…”

Will stopped short, him between the window and Hannibal, protectively. “Seems so…”

Hannibal got out of bed, and walked toward the window, fearlessly, staring at the stag. “He’s merely curious. No doubt this place has been uninhabited from some time, he’s come to see who we are.”   
  
The stag stared at Hannibal with black eyes, and lowered his head a little.

“They can be dangerous,” Will warned, having lived with a few near his house in Wolftrap.   
  
“He looks … expectant,” Hannibal said, and looked at a metal can under the window then opened it to find salt and oats inside. He opened the window, and offered a handful to the stag, who hesitated, then sniffed at the food, and ate it slowly, out of Hannibal’s palm.   
  
“Whomever was here used to feed him. He’s come back for his treat. In the winter, I’m sure he’s eager for anything,” Hannibal chuckled, and nodded for Will to come try.

“The question remains, what happened to the owner?” Will mused, though he could easily surmise that it was an older man, a hunter, who likely passes on.

Will wandered over toward Hannibal and plucked out a handful and offered it easily to the stag.

“It’s very possible that he went out one day, and never returned,” Hannibal reasoned, “perhaps he became infirm and wished to die in the wilderness, not a hospital bed.”    
  
The stag nosed Will’s palm, then ate from it, slowly.

“Or there was a very unfortunate accident,” Will said, quietly, smiling a little as the stag ate from his palm. “The place was left as though someone might be coming back and never did.”

“True,” Hannibal said, and watched Will smile at the feeling of the stag’s trust. “We are not permitting the stag in the house, Will,” he said, knowingly.

“He wouldn’t fit,” Will agreed, easily, and looked over at Hannibal with a fleeting grin. “We can’t stay anyway.”

“No, we can’t,” Hannibal agreed, and gave the deer another handful of oats, which he ate, gratefully. “But as far as hiding places go, this is a good one.”

“For now,” Will sighed, brushing his hands off, to check the pile of clothes they found, which were decidedly very old man, and smelled like mothballs.   
  
Hannibal watched Will, and closed the window after petting the stag’s nose. The stag wandered off into the snow, happier and more full after his treat. “Whomever he was, he was a large man.”

“Yes he was. These aren’t going to help us,” Will said, putting them back into the pile. He cocked his head to the side. “We’ll find a change of clothes hopefully in the next town.”

"When we can get there,” Hannibal said, and sighed as he went back into the kitchen to look for anything that might make a decent breakfast.

The white robe was far too large on Hannibal’s dancer’s frame, but gave him the look of some ancient statue come to life, draped in white cloth. The robe laid open over his chest, showing off the thick hair that grew there.

Will dressed in his clothes and then put on the old man’s snow suit, big, but it would do. He got the fishing gear out and a bucket from under the sink. “I’ll see what I can find us.”

Hannibal looked at Will, and chuckled. “You could fit a blanket in there, if you’d like to,” he said, observationally.

Will chuckled and leaned to kiss Hannibal on the lips. “I could fit you in here with me.”

Hannibal laughed at the thought, and wrapped his arms around Will, even if the suit made him smell like moth balls. “You would not be able to ice fish if I were that close to you,” he whispered, nuzzling Will’s face.

“No, I wouldn’t,” Will agreed, nuzzling his face against Hannibal’s for a moment, soaking in his warmth before going out into the cold soon. “Too distracted.”

“Far too distracted,” Hannibal agreed with a kiss. “You’ll need a hat,” he murmured, fussing over Will. “You barely have any hair.”

Will rolled his eyes, but ran a hand over his head, shorn and cold. “I’m sure there’s one around here somewhere.”

Hannibal turned around to search, and opened a cupboard near the door, then pulled out a hunter’s hat with earflaps. “Just the thing.”

Will laughed out loud and tilted his head forward for Hannibal to put it on him. “Well, I guess if I’m going to do this right…”   


Hannibal settled the hat on Will’s head and tied it under his chin with a laugh. “I used to have one, a little like this.”

“I think I recall it being hideous,” Will murmured, chin up to get the strap just right.

“It was not hideous. It was from Moscow, lined with mink,” Hannibal huffed.

“I remember we all had a good laugh later,” Will said with a small smirk, and leaned to kiss Hannibal once more before gathering his gear.

“Who is we?” Hannibal asked, before he kissed Will on the lips, softly, one hand under his chin.

“Zeller, Price, Bev,” Will said, ble to say the names now without any remorse.

“You all mocked my hat … terrible,” Hannibal smirked, and bit Will’s lower lip. “Had I known, I would have been outraged.”

“Would you have?” Will chuckled, licking at Hannibal’s mouth.

"And quite possibly have punished you,” Hannibal purred, suggestively.

“Not in that hat I hope,” Will teased, and pulled back. “Or just that hat.” He palmed down Hannibal’s chest one and gathered his things once more and walked to the door. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Good,” Hannibal said with a smile shining in his eyes at the thought. “I’ll be here … of course.”

“If I’m not back in two hours, assume they either found me or I fell in,” Will teased, and shut the door behind him, out in the blistering cold once more.

Hannibal’s smile fell flat at the thought of Will not returning, and he stared at the closed door, his lips pressed together in a thin line.    
  
But, Will was back in an hour, with a bucket of fish and frost stuck to his long lashes and reddened nose.

Hannibal, in the meantime, had cleaned. The tiny cabin looked much more orderly, and dustless, and Hannibal was in the process of wringing water out of their dirty clothes into the sink before he laid them neatly over the backs of chairs to dry. “Only an hour?”

“You prefer I was gone longer?” Will asked, shivering.

Hannibal walked over with a look at Will, and pulled his hat off, then tossed it aside and kissed him again, warming him up. “That is certainly not why I was timing how long you’ve been gone.”

Will shucked off his gloves, fingers cold even still, and touched Hannibal with a little sniffle. “No?”   
Hannibal took Will’s hands in his own and warmed them by putting them against his chest. “I may have been … _ concerned _ .”

“That’s sweet of you,” Will said with a smile, wiggle his nose a little to warm it up too, his ears red from the frost, even with the hat. “It’s very cold out.”

“So I’ve gathered,” Hannibal sighed, and helped Will out of the enormous snow suit as he brought him closer to the crackling fire. “But it looks as though you’ve been successful.”

“A bucket of fish,” Will sighed, happy to come back to something warm, and wrapped his arms around Hannibal tightly.   
“I have never been so pleased for a bucket of fish,” Hannibal chuckled, and leaned against Will, his hands against Will’s lower back. “I’ve washed our clothing, it will take a while to dry, and in my tidying, I found a box of tea.”

“Tea is almost as good as coffee,” Will mused, nosing against Hannibal’s neck.

Hannibal smiled to himself and caressed the back of Will’s head as he savoured the moment. “I’ll put some on, and take the fish to clean.”

“I can clean the fish,” Will said, with a look. He pulled out his knife from his boots. “Done it tons of times before.”

“Then be my guest, in that case,” Hannibal said, and went into the tiny kitchen to pour tea into a pot to put on the fire for boiling.

Will shrugged and took off his boots and went to the counter to start cleaning all the fish. He threw bones and guts into the pail and left just the meat on a platter he found for Hannibal to cook as he might.

Hannibal watched from the door frame, appreciatively, and drifted closer to watch the expert way Will’s hands handled the knife. “I could watch you do that for hours,” he said with a sly smile, and began to mix a few seasonings he’d found in a small bowl with salt.

“Clean fish?” Will asked, brow raised over at Hannibal. “Nothing special.”

“You have a talent for making beautiful things sound ordinary,” Hannibal chuckled, and wrapped his arms around Will from behind. “I enjoyed watching you handle the blade, you’re very skillful. Your forearms are just well muscled enough to be distracting, even from the blood.”

Will slopped the scales into the bucket, and leaned to wash his hands, well aware of Hannibal staying right behind him, glad for it. “They are ordinary.”

“I implied that I loved you too much to eat you, once, and you compared yourself to a cow,” Hannibal reminded Will, lips brushing his ear as he reached around Will and helped him wash his hands, massaging them with his own.

Will laughed  and turned his head to look at Hannibal, tight up against each other. “It was meant as an analogy, that it must have been very inconvenient for you to love me, seeing as you wanted to eat my brain once.”

Hannibal let their noses brush as he looked Will’s handsome face over, still pink from the cold, and then leaned in and kissed the scar over Will’s forehead, tenderly. “It was akin to an animal chewing off it’s own limb for freedom. It was not something I took pleasure in. At the time, I thought it was what I had to do to be free of our connection,” Hannibal said, softly, then looked into Will’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Will.”

Never having thought he’d get that apology, Will still, searching Hannibal’s eyes. “You don’t want to eat me now, that’s what matters,” he whispered.

“I would rather starve to death than eat you, now,” Hannibal whispered back, and kissed Will’s lips, pressing his apology into them. A genuine apology from Hannibal was, to put it mildly, rare.

Hands sudsy, Will turned in Hannibal’s arms anyway and wrapped his arms around him, kissing him properly. Apology accepted. “Thank God,” he whispered with a smile against Hannibal’s lips.

“A comforting confession while we’re snowed in?” Hannibal asked with a playful tone to his voice, and held Will close to him, relief flowing through his veins at the feeling of Will’s forgiveness.

“Maybe a little,” Will said, biting at Hannibal’s bottom lip, wrapping his arms around him tighter.

“Would you eat me if you were hungry enough?” Hannibal asked, with curiosity in his tone. 

“Not at all,” Will sighed, resting their faces together, forehead-to-forehead. “I’ve finally got you where I want you.”

Hannibal blushed a little at that, and kissed Will’s lips as they leaned into each other, embracing like they’d been married for years. “All you had to do was ask,” Hannibal murmured, “I would have left everything in an instant and ran with you.”

“You were locked up,” Will chided, but a smile remained on his lips. “But we’re here now.”

“You freed me,” Hannibal smiled back, and nuzzled Will’s face. “You were ready.”

Will swiveled to turn the water off and then wrapped his arms around Hannibal's shoulders once again. “I was. I  _ am _ .”

Hannibal kissed Will again, more slowly and deeply than before, then turned to season the fish by pressing the herb and salt mixture into the flesh. “It was well worth the wait, in that case.”

Nosing in against Hannibal’s neck, Will slipped by him to let him do his thing, and then got out of the rest of the snow clothes. “I think so.”   
  
The feeling of Will nosing against his neck was enough to make Hannibal’s skin flush, and he looked over his shoulder as Will walked away, then brought the heavy cast iron pan to the fire, full of fish, and took the tea water out of the fire as he put the fish in to cook. “Were you warm enough?”

“Yeah, for a while,” Will answered, sitting by the fire, his boots off now as he let his toes warm there. “Wind picked up.”

Hannibal proceeded to pour the boiling water from the pot into a teapot to which he’d added the tea earlier, then brought it out to Will and returned with two cups. “I’m surprised you did not have to dig your way back into the cabin.”

“Who says I didn’t?” Will said, taking the cup and smiled a thanks at Hannibal.

Hannibal laughed, and sat on the bed, near Will, then poured them both a cup of tea. “At least I do not have to ask if you were recognized. Aside from our stag friend, of course.”

“Not a soul out there,” Will explained. And if there was they couldn’t see anymore than I could.”

“I did have serious concerns that you might have become lost,” Hannibal admitted, as he sipped his tea, not looking at Will, a little embarrassed by how anxious he really had been while he waited for Will to return. He felt like a dog waiting for his owner to return home, a rare, vulnerable state for the sharp, swift killer the public knew Hannibal Lecter to be. Will could reduce him to the mindset of a love-struck rottweiler … 

“Me? Lost?” Will raised his brows as he sipped the hot tea, warming himself from the inside out/ He chuckled lowly at the thought. “I know tricks to find my way back, things to mark so I can find them again. I didn’t go that far.”

“I resisted following after you,” Hannibal said, as though he hadn’t been that worried. In truth, he’d only cleaned the cabin to give himself something to do besides watch out of the window to make sure he’d see Will the second he began to approach. 

Smiling, Will moved into Hannibal's lap, carefully. “I was fine.”

“The ice might have broken, the snow may have disoriented you…” Hannibal listed off, his voice soft.

“And yet here I am,” Will said quietly, draping an arm over Hannibal’s shoulders. “Perfectly warm and safe with you.”

Hannibal leaned against Will, lightly, one arm around his waist, nose tucked against the side of Will’s neck. “Here you are, where you belong.”

“Where I’ve  _ always _ belonged.” Will rested his chin over Hannibal’s head, sipping the tea, but not once letting go. It was a peaceful moment before many more storms to come.

The wind howled a little louder outside, rattling the windows in their casings, and Hannibal smiled against Will’s throat. “Has our teacup come back together?”

“Finally,” Will whispered, setting the cup down on the table next to them to hold Hannibal’s shoulders and head against him.

“In my cell, I have pages and pages of you, and of a mended teacup. It was amusing to hear what Frederick thought it might have meant,” Hannibal chuckled.

“What did he think it meant?” Will asked, curious to hear this story, as he kept mostly away from everyone that had anything to do with Hannibal for years.

Hannibal laughed to himself. “He assumed it meant I wanted to drink your blood, and made all sorts of comparisons to the holy grail. It was profoundly amusing to listen to him flounder.”

“He would,” Will commented and then kissed Hannibal’s forehead. “Not sorry for what happened to him.” He had been a little remorseful at the time when he figured out what he had done and done purposefully.

“Nor am I,” Hannibal murmured, and nuzzled his nose against Will’s throat. “Frederick has been careless with the wrong people for far, far too long.”

“He won’t now,” Will sighed, and stood once more to check on the fish in the pan, using a pair of tongs to flip each one to cook thoroughly.

“Did I tell you of the tantrum he had when I refuted his work on me?” Hannibal asked, as he watched Will’s form silhouetted by flame.

“You did not,” Will said and came to sit back across Hannibal’s thighs, picking up his mug once more to sip his cooled tea.

“He asked if he was my nemesis,” Hannibal laughed, “and then told me I would never be free again, that eventually my fame would die out, I would be forgotten and when I was old and toothless, the younger ones would use me for sex.”

Will set his mug down once again and turned to straddle Hannibal instead, gazing down at him. “That was very detailed of him.”

“Yes,” Hannibal said, with a smirk in his eyes, “isn’t it? He’s spent some time imagining that one.”

“He’d be fuming about now if he could see us,” Will whispered, their noses close as he leaned in.

“Given the heat of that fire, he may still be fuming, regardless,” Hannibal whispered, lips brushing over Will’s.

Will chuckled and kissed Hannibal fully on the lips for that. “He’ll never get the smell of burning flesh out his senses.”

“I told him once that fire clings to wood because it is made of the right stuff, and fame clings to a man for the same reason. I’m certain he’ll think of that a few times.”

Will grinned and kissed Hannibal again, but then slid off his lap once again, to get plates for the fish. “I’m sure he will.”

“We’ll have to give poor Frederick a thought while we eat,” Hannibal chuckled. “He’s already half cooked, he would be a quick meal.”

“He’s a little too done for my taste,” Will mused as he plated the fish and handed a fork to Hannibal with one of the plates. “Breakfast is served.”

“Rather late,” Hannibal said with a charmed smile as he accepted the plate, with a gracious nod, and took a bite of the fish. “Very fresh. Thank you, Will.”

“Brunch then,” Will offered with a look at Hannibal as he used a fork to cut into the cooked fish, nice and flakey.

“Brunch. A shame there’s no champagne and orange juice,” Hannibal quipped, and took another bite of the fish.

“Not in this cabin.” Will sat, legs sprawled as he ate, starved after having not much but beans and fish the night before and being out in the cold to get what little meat he could get for today.

“What did you use for bait?” Hannibal asked, quite proud of Will for being so resourceful.

“There was a bait box in the closet with some artificial bait, nothing fancy, but it did the trick. I prefer live bait, but can’t be too picky out here,” Will explained.

“You did very well. What sort of fish is this?” Hannibal loved the feeling of brunch with Will, lazy and unhurried, even if it was only fish and a blizzard was howling outside.

“Saugeye,” Will said, “There are some catfish, too, we haven’t eaten, but this is Saugeye. Most active winter species around here.”

“They’re delicious,” Hannibal said, as he finished one piece and took a sip of his tea. He had, admittedly, been starving. It was a massive stroke of luck that Will had found the fishing supplies.

The fish was large, enough meat to last a while should they be able to pack enough snow in the freezer to keep it. Or find a cooler to keep it until the next place of housing they found. Will didn’t have a smoker here. “It’s not bad.”

“Not at all. Much better than salty oatmeal, which is what we would have to resort to,” Hannibal said, thankfully, and leaned over to press a kiss to Will’s cheek.

Wrinkling his nose at the thought and memories of Molly’s oatmeal bakes gone wrong, Will shook his head, but smiled. “This is much better than that.”

“Terrible memories of oatmeal, Will?” Hannibal asked. 

“Not a fan of it,” Will admitted, eating the last bit of his large piece of fish.

“Your father’s terrible meals?” Hannibal guessed, as he finished his fish. His stomach only now silent, and not rumbling.

“Molly’s,” Will said, solemnly, taking his plate to the kitchen to clean.   


Hannibal sighed through his nose, and followed with his own empty plate. “I see,” he said, and put his plate in the sink, then began washing it, fastidiously.

“It was terrible. Everything she made was terrible,” Will offered, trying to bridge the gap he’d just made bringing up her name. “I did a lot of the cooking.”

Hannibal did his best not to think of Molly, or that Will had married her. He took a slow, measured breath in, and took Will’s plate to wash it as he let the breath out, and bit the inside of his cheek. “Did you?”

“Yes,” Will replied, moving in behind Hannibal to hug him around his waist, chin on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Hannibal relaxed a little when Will hugged him, and put one hand against Will’s arm, holding it in place.  “I know,” he murmured, and leaned back against Will’s chest. “At least I’ll know now that you’ll be grateful not to be the cook any longer.”

“I wouldn’t mind cooking for you if you asked,” Will said, quietly, “I’ll pull my share.”

“I enjoy cooking, and I’d like to think I’m rather good at it, given more than one ingredient.”

Will chuckled, and kissed Hannibal’s neck gently. “I’ll let you cook.”

“Thank you. I can’t think of a dish I’ve made that you’ve said was terrible …” Hannibal shut off the water. “Aside from that soup, of course.” There was the past again, in Molly’s terrible cooking, in the soup. It would come up, over and over like shards of glass that tore through the rug they’d been swept beneath.

“That wasn’t soup, that was flavoring for my brain,” Will said with a smile in his voice. “Everything else has been amazing.”   


Hannibal looked over his shoulder at Will, meeting his eyes. “How many times did you miss my cooking?” he asked, opening up a little.

“Many,” Will sighed, kissing Hannibal’s shoulder and then his neck. “More than I can care to count.”

Hannibal turned in Will’s arms after shutting the water off, and laying the folded cloth over the tap. “What did you miss the most?”

“Your fancy presentation,” Will said, snarkily, and then kissed Hannibal on the lips. “All of it.”

“Were you referring to my silk ties and tailored suits, or to the presentation of the meals themselves?” Hannibal asked, with a little smirk.

“Both,” Will whispered, with a sigh, and rubbed his hands down Hannibal’s chest.

“Good answer. I will treat you to both, when I can,” Hannibal said, with a smile.

“You’ve always worn a suit well,” Will said with some admiration and love. “Even the weird plaid ones.”

“Weird?” Hannibal asked, with a touch of indignation.

“They were a little loud,” Will chuckled, but kissed Hannibal on the lips slowly. “You looked good in them.

Hannibal melted into the kiss, even if Will maligned his suits, of all things. “They were bold, but  _ elegant.” _

"They were,” Will agreed, with a smile. “I sometimes imagined how many layers you had on.”

“Did you?” Hannibal asked, with twinkling, dark eyes.

“How many I’d have to take off to finally see a glimpse of skin…” Will teased, biting Hannibal’s lips softly.

“Jacket, tie, vest, shirt…” Hannibal listed, against Will’s mouth.

“Thank God you aren’t wearing all of those now,” Will said with a swallow, toying with the tie on the robe Hannibal was wearing.

“Only one layer right now, almost nothing,” Hannibal whispered.

Undoing the tie, Will licked his lips and kissed Hannibal again, harder this time, pressing himself right up against him. Hannibal moaned, and clutched at Will’s hips as they kissed, passionately, in the tiny kitchen. Will bit into Hannibal’s mouth, tongues slipping together as he rolled his hips into the doctor’s.

Hannibal leaned back against the counter, completely bare under the open robe, and quickly becoming stiff against Will’s hip. He cupped the back of Will’s neck with one hand, and pulled him in, for a deeper kiss.

“Hannibal,” Will groaned, palming his cock between them, in slow fluid strokes, giving Hannibal’s length the attention it deserved, rolled in his thick, sweaty, calloused palm.

Hannibal’s head fell back and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed a groan. He spread his thighs, slowly, then used one hand to undo Will’s shirt before he kissed his mouth again, biting at Will’s lips, a little jealousy there at the mention of Will’s former wife that Hannibal couldn’t control.

“Fuck-” Will said, looking Hannibal over and then kissed him hard again, “I want to be the only one that gets to see you like this ever again.” Will shrugged his shirt off and tossed it to the floor.   


Hannibal’s eyes went dark with spreading pupil and he kissed the words out of Will’s mouth as he undid Will’s pants, belt first, then let the too-large jeans just fall to the floor around his ankles. “Ever?”

“Ever,” Will growled, possessively, tugging Hannibal’s cock in his hand as he stepped out of the pants, clad in only his boxers.   


Hannibal bit Will’s lower lip, flushing in all the right places when Will said that while he stroked him. “That … could be arranged,” Hannibal whispered, throatily, and tugged Will’s boxers down.

“I expect it to be.” Will stepped out of his boxers, too, and then took them both in hand, fisting over them slowly, thumbing the tips together.

Hannibal’s eyes locked with Will’s, lost in the depths of their inky black centers surrounded with oceanic irises. “You want me to belong to you, and only you,” Hannibal panted, one hand slipping down to palm Will’s ass as he stroked them together.

“Just as I belong to only you,” Will reciprocated, daringly kissing down Hannibal’s chest, still stroking his thick cock as he descended, biting at his hip.

Hannibal’s jaw dropped at the sight of Will dropping to his knees, and his cock gave a hard twitch of excitement and arousal. “Anyone after you would be a terrible disappointment,” he whispered, hardly able to breathe through the anticipation.

“There will be no one after me,” Will stated, on his knees now, he nosed against Hannibal’s cock, and licked at the tip once and then took him down, going all in, all at once. He groaned around the taste, salty from their time last night together and no shower in sight, but it did nothing but arouse Will more.   
  
Hannibal felt the breath knocked out of his lungs when Will’s lips closed around his cock. He gasped, and palmed the back of Will’s head, his hand trembling as he watched Will devour him. “Will-”

Opening his mouth wide, Will held onto Hannibal’s hips as he took him down to the hilt, gagging only once before he did it again, taking in every last taste of skin, and then sucked his way back up. His fingers dug in deep to Hannibal’s hip bones, pulling him in closer.   
  
A tear streaked out from the corner of Hannibal’s eye as he closed them in utter bliss. “Yes-” Hannibal whispered, his chest heaving as he scratched his fingers over the back of Will’s neck. “That’s good, Will…”

Will moaned against Hannibal’s shaft, pulling back to lick his way up and then grasped his balls with one hand as he took a breath before delving in one more time. He’d never done something like this, but had thought about doing it to Hannibal on a handful of occasions.

Will’s mouth was strong and soft, just uncertain enough that Hannibal knew this was the first time Will had tasted a man, which turned him on even more. “Please-” Hannibal gasped at the feeling of Will’s hand around his balls, and pressed his length against the long, wet path of Will’s tongue, slowly.

Sea-blue, lust-blown dark eyes gazed up at Hannibal as he took him down one more, sucking back to the tip, and lathing the rough of his tongue against the knotted, sensitive nerves there, tugging roughly on Hannibal’s balls, encouraging him to let go.   
  
Hannibal swore, in Lithuanian, the sound escaping from his lips with a shudder. His hips rolled uncontrollably, pressing into Will’s mouth as he gasped fragments of words, and a bright flush spread from his chest, up his throat. “Will- Will-” was the only English word, chanted over and over like a desperate prayer before Hannibal came with a cry, spilling against Will’s wicked tongue.

Will sucked and swallowed down every last drop, having waited for it, anticipating it with every stroke of his tongue and grip of his fist. He pulled off and licked his lips, panting as he caught his breath, eyes never leaving Hannibal’s form.

Hannibal clutched the counter behind him to keep his knees from folding with relief, and then dropped down, slowly, to cup Will’s face with both palms and kiss him, wholeheartedly. Will’s hand touched Hannibal’s wrists as they kissed, sharing in the salty taste against his tongue. Will realized, there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for Hannibal.

Hannibal pulled Will closer by the small of his back as they kissed, heart pounding so hard that he could hear it in his ears. “I love you,” he whispered, between presses of their mouths.

“I love you, too,” Will whispered back, between their lips, sealing the very meaning with another hot kiss.

Hannibal was dizzy with emotion, riding high on the crest of addictive drugs Will released just by touching him. “May I show you something new?”

“New?” Will asked, brow raised, but licked his lips at the thought.

“Something I doubt you’ve had before,” Hannibal murmured, looking Will’s features over, and the lovely blush that haunted them.

“There’s a lot I haven’t had before,” Will admitted with a swallow, but put himself in Hannibal’s very capable, trusting hands.

“Come to bed,” Hannibal murmured and pulled Will to his feet, then led him back to bed with a long, slow kiss.

The backs of his knees hit first and then will toppled onto the bed, pulling Hannibal over him as they kissed, never letting their mouths miss a beat, or separate for too long. “Bossy.”

Hannibal laid over Will, kissing his throat slowly. “You seem to enjoy it,” he whispered. This was everything he imagined when he pictured he and Will as lovers, and more.

“I enjoy anything we share together, whether you are bossy or not,” Will groaned, skin sensitive over the area Hannibal had his lips.

“You think you would enjoy me compliant?” Hannibal whispered, working his way down Will’s body, from his neck to his nipples, gentler with the one close to his bite wound.

“I’ll enjoy you anyway I can get you,” Will whispered, hand reaching into Hannibal’s hair, threading through it softly.

“I think that is true, for either of us,” Hannibal purred as he nuzzled Will’s stomach, and kissed his scar on the way down to his thighs.

Will hummed at that, hands still secured in Hannibal’s hair, watching him with a keen gaze. “Still enjoying the best with each other.”

Hannibal nuzzled Will’s cock, and then brushed his balls with the flat of his tongue, breathing against them before he sucked one, then the other into his mouth slowly, and pushed Will’s thighs up, against his chest. 

Will let go at that, and held his thighs with his hands, making it easier on Hannibal as he waited in anticipation, only a little aware of what might come, his body already feeling on fire and over sensitive. “Oh-”   
Hannibal groaned softly at the sound Will made, which made his hot mouth vibrate around Will’s ball before he let it go, and trailed the tip of his tongue to the tiny bit of flesh between Will’s balls and his pucker.

First reaction for Will was to tense up, toes curling slightly, and then he let go, the new sensation completely pleasing as new nerves were discovered by Hannibal’s wet, warm tongue. He covered a moan with the back of his hand-- Hannibal had hardly just started.

Hannibal’s hands, large and strong, reached up to massage the backs of Will’s thighs when he tensed. Once Will relaxed, and moaned behind his hand, Hannibal smiled to himself, and continued downward. 

His hair trailed a little over Will’s wet, sensitive skin as Hannibal inched his way lower and lower until he finally brushed his tongue over Will’s entrance, and his hands slipped down to part the perfect round halves of Will’s ass.

“Hannibal-” Will managed, almost a warning, grasping the sheets below him now as his hips ground against his tongue, betraying himself.

Hannibal breathed against Will’s sensitive, wet skin as he spoke, “do you want me to stop?” Hannibal’s tone was sly, well aware that Will would likely not want him to stop at all.

“Don’t… don’t you dare,” Will said, lifting his head a little to look down at Hannibal. If they stopped now, he knew he’d never get back in this position and they’d remain stuck where they’d been before now.

Hannibal smiled up at Will from between his thighs, and nuzzled his balls before he tongued Will’s entrance with a deliberate, slow press of his tongue over the nerves that were now so aroused after decades of neglect that Hannibal half expected Will to pass out.

A pulse of pleasure started in Will’s core, so hot he pressed one hand against is chest, sure his heart might jump right out if he didn’t. He moaned, thighs spreading a little more to accommodate Hannibal.

Will’s thighs, spreading for him was the most erotic sight he’d ever seen. Hannibal pressed his tongue inside Will, very slowly, easing him into the feeling of being penetrated as he wrapped one hand around Will’s leaking cock and stroked, slowly.

One hand went over Will’s eyes as he swore under his breath at the feeling, all at once trying to relax and trying to push Hannibal out. “Oh my…-”

Hannibal’s hands kneaded the muscle of Will’s ass, relaxing him slowly as he rimmed the outer edge of his entrance, then opened his mouth a little wider and plunged his tongue inside, slowly, again, deeper this time.

Will’s chest heaved, heavy breaths falling and panting into the air quicker as the new sensation had him on the very edge of coming from this alone, and he didn’t want it to stop yet. “Hannibal…” he managed, biting his own bottom lip.

Hannibal’s hand stroked Will, very slowly as he introduced him, gently, to the incredible feeling of being filled, even if it was only a little for now, just enough to whet his appetite. Hannibal groaned against Will, and curled his tongue so that it brushed electric-hot bundles of nerves inside him, touching and tasting parts of Will he knew no one ever had before.

Will planted his feet on the bed with that, wide spread, and arched into the sensation as he groaned louder than he would have liked.  “Fuck…”

Hannibal groaned low in his throat and plunged his tongue deeper into Will.

All but crawling out of his skin, Will started to plunge deep over the edge, body writhing and hips working to take whatever more Hannibal into himself. “Please..” he whispered, brokenly.

Another groan, and Hannibal pulled Will down over his tongue by his hips. His hands flexed, encouraging Will to let go.

Fingers clenched into the bed covers, Will tensed as his body finally pushed past that barrier and he came, hot and blinding white behind his eyes. “Hannibal-”

Hannibal clutched Will as he came, and hummed against him before he pulled his mouth away, slowly, and kissed his way up the back of Will’s thigh, which trembled under his touch. Will was breathing heavily, but his chest was evening out as he took deep breaths to calm himself.

Kiss by kiss, Hannibal climbed Will’s thighs, his hips, over Will’s cock, and come-spattered stomach, which he cleaned off with long, slow strokes of his tongue. Hannibal kissed the long line of scar tissue over Will’s abdomen, then kissed his way over his chest to his neck, and nuzzled Will’s pulse as he slowly came down from the orgasm. “I take it that was your first time?”

“You know it was,” Will whispered, hands clutching at Hannibal this time, holding him closer, turning his head to kiss the taste of himself from the other man’s mouth.

Hannibal kissed Will back, slowly, and wrapped one leg around Will’s thigh, holding him close. “I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time.”

Will chuckled a little against Hannibal’s mouth and pulled him in a little tighter, arms around him. “How long?”

“The first or second time we met,” Hannibal said, with a smirk, snuggling in against Will. “I felt an immediate and undeniable attraction to you.”

“First  _ or _ second?” Will grinned, unable to feel anything but warmth and happiness curled up with Hannibal like this, in a snowy backdrop, hiding away from the rest of the world.

“It’s difficult to remember when that precise fantasy occured to me, but yes,” Hannibal admitted, happily, as they curled up in the warm bed.

Will shook his head a little, turning on his side so they faced each other, limbs over limbs, heads resting close. “And here I didn’t think you could want me, let alone love me. I was so blind.”

“Remarkably blind,” Hannibal agreed. “Everyone else could see it. Even Alana.”

“Is that why she honed in on you?” Will asked, curiously.

“Quite possibly, yes,” Hannibal said, and closed his eyes with a sigh. “I’m certain even Zeller and Price knew.”

“Well, those two…” Will gave another laugh, curling one leg over Hannibal’s hip.

“You think so?” Hannibal asked, with a smirk. “I think it’s unrequited.”

“Who knows.” Will shrugged, searching Hannibal’s face over with a soft sigh. “I’m sure Jack knew… you know, he’s the one that tried to convince me to kill you.”

“Did he?” Hannibal asked, amused at the thought. “In Florence, you mean? Were you really about to stab me in the back? Literally?”

“No,” Will admitted, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “I thought about it, how the pain would be over, but… I wouldn’t have been able to.”

“Part of you wanted to hurt me back,” Hannibal guessed, honestly, and rubbed a tense spot in Will’s back.

“It seemed only fair, at the time,” Will replied with brutal honesty.

“Love and revenge are not mutually exclusive,” Hannibal admitted, and swallowed before he kissed Will’s lips. “Do you still long for revenge? Or, do you imagine we are even now?”

“Letting you fester without a word from me for three years was revenge enough,” Will offered, promising the words against Hannibal’s mouth.

“While you married,” Hannibal agreed, “I would rather have been stabbed,” he sighed, but kissed Will, warmly, on the lips. 

“I wanted to forget about you,” Will sighed, “but not anymore. You’ve always known me better than anyone, and I was stupid to think I could live without you.”

Hannibal took a deep breath, and nuzzled Will’s face, silent for a moment, his eyes closed. The sun illuminated the nearly transparent eyelashes that laid against Hannibal’s cheek, silvery in the light. “Never try to cut me out, again,” he whispered, in a soft voice.

“I couldn’t if I tried,” Will whispered back, resting their heads together, almost peacefully.

“It will take some time not to wonder if you might change your mind,” Hannibal whispered.

Will stilled at the accusation, swallowing down a tight knot in his throat. “You don’t trust me.”

“I do not trust my luck,” Hannibal said, and held Will a little more tightly. “I have done many things that might make you decide not to stay, I’m aware of that,” Hannibal sighed, his hands clasping behind the small of Will’s back. “The only reassurance I need is that we are “even” in your mind.”

“Which I’ve already given,” Will whispered, and edge of hurt in his tone.

Hannibal kissed Will’s forehead, able to hear his hurt. “Will…”

Will would have to try harder to prove that he wasn’t going anywhere, because all he’d done so far hadn’t been enough. He’d never tried this hard before, never had to. He held onto Hannibal a little tighter. “I suppose I deserve that.”

Hannibal nuzzled his face against Will’s. “Only as much as I do. We have been ... rather hasty with one another at times.”

“Do you think we’re being hasty now?” Will asked, eyes on Hannibal’s.

“No, not at all,” Hannibal said, as he smoothed one hand over the back of Will’s head, petting his short hair. “I think we have been waiting for this time together, for years.”

“Yeah,” Will replied with a swallow. “How else can I convince you I’m not leaving?”   


“By not leaving,” Hannibal whispered with a little smile in his eyes. “As you would a stray dog who thinks you may leave him there. Simple repetition.”

Only, Will had left his dogs, his strays. “I won’t leave.”

Hannibal nodded, and looked into Will’s eyes, “neither will I.”

“Gonna stick around, huh?” Will teased, trying to lighten the mood a little as the air seemed to still around them.

Hannibal smiled, and nodded before he kissed Will on the lips. “Absolutely.”

“Not even thinking about turning me in and running for it?” Will smiled, taking a deep breath, glad that Hannibal hadn’t pulled away.

Hannibal laughed aloud at the thought, as ridiculous as it was and shook his head. “What point is there in freedom if I do not have you to share it with, Will?”

“True,” Will sighed, “I’d prefer you be where I can find you… by my side.”

“Not on display like a dangerous exhibit at the zoo?” Hannibal asked, still smiling as he brushed his hand over Will’s side, slowly.

“No, not like that,” Will replied quietly. “That was never my design.”

“No. It was mine,” Hannibal said, and kissed Will, again. “A trap I knew you could not resist,  _ forever _ .”

“Did you think being locked up would be fun?” Will asked, amused, his mood lightening just a little.

“No. But, I knew it would be worth it. I needed you to find me, when you were ready,” Hannibal said, softly.

“And yet you told me to stay away,” Will smiled at that. “You knew I wouldn’t listen.”

“Yes, I was quite aware,” Hannibal said, with a gleam in his dark eyes.

Rolling his eyes, Will pushed Hannibal’s shoulder gently so he was flat on his back, and straddled his hips. “Typical.”   
  
Hannibal smiled up at Will, his uneven teeth visible for a rare moment. “The second you are warned away from anything, you become insatiably curious.”

“Never could but be curious,” Will said, and touched Hannibal’s teeth with his thumb, smiling at them, and how imperfectly perfect they were against Hannibal veneer of perfectly polished.   
Hannibal passed his tongue over his teeth and made to cover his lips over them, but paused, and let Will feel that they were not smooth and even as most would guess. They looked a little wild, sharp and uneven, more like the teeth of a wild thing than of a gentleman.

“The only piece of your person suit that never you never fixed,” Will pointed out, pulling his hand away.

Hannibal licked his lips, and looked up at Will like he just let him in on a secret. “I’d considered it, but I’d rather they were mine. Teeth are so personal,” he murmured, and touched the bite on Will’s chest. “As distinctive as a fingerprint.”

“Very distinctive,” Will whispered, the bite still hurt but he almost liked how much it hurt when Hannibal touched it.

Hannibal noticed and laid his hand over it with a smile in his eyes. “Do you enjoy pain, Will?”

“I’ve managed with a lot from you, I think I might,” Will admitted, though he honestly never delved into it, never wanted to until now.

Hannibal tested Will by dragging his nails down Will’s thigh, slowly, just close enough to his balls and cock to mix the sensation of pain with arousal. “Have you ever enjoyed it before? The sensation of being slapped?”

“Never been slapped,” Will said as his skin crawled with gooseflesh, and his fingers clenched into Hannibal’s shoulders where they pinned him lightly.

“No?” Hannibal asked, and palmed Will’s ass, kneading it. “Surprising for a former police officer.”

“I wasn’t one for long,” Will reminded Hannibal, biting his own bottom lip at just how handsy they had gotten with each other.

Hannibal licked his lips again as he watched Will, then smiled up at him, “A shame I was not able to see you in uniform.”

“Do you have a uniform kink, Doctor Lecter?” Will asked with a mock incredulous look at the man below him, his cock twitching a little at the idea.

“For you? Certainly. I cannot imagine how appealing you must have been in uniform blues with your cerulean eyes,” Hannibal purred, both hands on Will’s ass, heart beating faster.

“I would have cuffed you,” Will mused lightly, the darks of his eyes spreading by each word exchanged.

“And searched me?” Hannibal whispered, then dragged his nails down Will’s ass, slowly.

“Twice, thoroughly,” Will answered, arching his hips forward.

Hannibal’s eyelids lowered at that, and he slapped Will’s ass, once, sharply, watching his reaction. Will bit his lip harder, tugging it between his teeth as he swallowed the gasping moan that resounded from his chest.

“You’ve never been spanked?” Hannibal asked, his voice hushed with incredulous pleasure as he stared up at Will’s flushed skin, his hard nipples and dark eyes

“I’ve only had the pleasure of sharing a bed with a few, and none of them were into spanking,” Will said, huskily. “So, no, I’ve never been spanked, doctor.”

Hannibal smiled at that, and pulled Will down to him as he sat up in bed, then sat on the edge of the mattress, his feet on the floor, Will still straddling him. “Lay over my lap, Will,” he whispered, in Will’s ear.

Opening his mouth to speak, Will found he had no words, and simply did as he was told, slipping off Hannibal’s lap and laying himself over his thick thighs.

Hannibal sighed at the way Will looked over his thighs, his beautiful ass in in the air, and caressed it with one palm. “There are nerves just at the curve of your ass,  _ here _ , that are connected to the spot that I stroked inside you with my tongue,” Hannibal said, smoothly, and rubbed his hand over the roundest part of Will’s cheeks to demonstrate, then gave a gentle, teasing slap. “When those nerves are stimulated, so is your prostate. The connection between nerves is stronger in some men than in others, and of course, one’s preferences dominate the experience. You seem to prefer being slapped more than most, I would think,” Hannibal murmured, and flexed his thigh under Will’s cock.

Will writhed a little, moving his hips enough to feel friction on his cock, the scratch of Hannibal’s hairy legs against his sensitive skin there. “I’ll be sure to let you know,” Will said, with a look over his shoulder. He’d never thought he’d ever find himself bent over Hannibal Lecter’s knee for a  _ spanking _ .

Hannibal met Will’s eyes, and held it, then slapped his ass, harder, hard enough that the sting would reverberate through the nerves there like the sound of a bell struck lingered after it was rung. “You  _ will _ let me know,” Hannibal repeated, not a question, an order.

Will’s pupils spread darker fast, his mouth dropping slightly as every nerve seemed to catch fire at once, building pleasure once again in his core. “Yes,  _ sir _ …”

Hannibal rubbed his hairy thigh against Will’s cock, slowly, and ran his nails up the back of Will’s thigh this time. “What was that you called me?”

“Sir?” Will asked, gripping Hannibal’s ankle with one hand at the sensation.   


“I am a  _ Doctor _ , Will,” Hannibal corrected with a harder slap across Will’s ass cheeks, then another in quick succession, hard enough to leave Will’s muscle quivering with the force, and a faint, pink print of Hannibal’s hand over the pale skin.

Will groaned, not trying to hide it this time, panting as he grasped Hannibal’s leg tighter, hips rutting just  _ so _ against his thighs. “Yes,  _ Doctor _ …”

Hannibal could feel Will rubbing against his thigh, and sucked his own index finger for a moment before he traced it around the outside of Will’s entrance, “that’s much better, Will.”

Gasping, Will tensed for a moment and then relaxed at the intimate, now familiar feeling. “Planning an examination, Doctor?”

“I think you deserve a thorough looking over,” Hannibal purred, and eased the tip of his wet finger inside Will, very, very slowly as he stroked his other hand down Will’s spine, adoringly.

Will’s head dropped, hanging slightly at that, Hannibal’s finger much thicker and far less wet than his tongue had been. “I-” A flush crept over Will’s skin, pinkening his creamy complexion.

Hannibal let Will become used to the feeling, “Only the very tip, but it feels like more, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” Will managed, swallowing as his toes spread into the floor boards.

“Imagine my entire  _ cock, _ ” Hannibal said, and curled his wet finger as he slipped it further into Will, closer to his prostate, massaging the sensitive walls of his insides.

Will moaned at the idea of it, hearing Hannibal even say the word was unhinging for the empath, who wriggled and writhed for more. “I can…”

“A shame we don’t have any proper lubricants, you’ll have to wait for it,” Hannibal murmured, and curled his finger against Will’s prostate, slowly, caressing it.

The thought of being tease caused Will to shift his hips against Hannibal's thighs, and then make a noise of pleasure that escaped his throat.

Hannibal kept fingering Will, slowly, pleasuring him expertly as he massaged Will’s prostate. “You like the thought of making me wait?”

“The thought that you  _ would _ ,” Will restated, a breathy moan escaping his mouth once more as his body began to wind tightly all over again.   
  
“I’ll wait as long as I have to for the pleasure of fucking you,” Hannibal whispered in Will’s ear while his surgeon’s finger, long and dexterous, moved inside Will, working him up.

“And how long will you wait for me to  _ fuck _ you?” Will asked, breathily, biting the inside of his good cheek.   


Hannibal forgot to breathe for a moment, then resumed breathing with a deep gasp. “Is that what you want?” Hannibal whispered, the rubbing of his finger slowly becoming more urgent.

Will’s body tensed as the heat spread and his toes curled into the floor. “Fair is fair-”

“Quid pro quo,” Hannibal groaned, and massaged the small, throbbing spot inside Will harder, his thigh flexing under Will’s cock, “I would enjoy being on either end, with you…”

Another groan left Will, as his writhed, creating friction against his cock between himself and Hannibal’s thighs. “Yes…” he panted, worked up and on the verge once again.

“Are you about to come?” Hannibal asked, his voice thick with lust as he worked Will to the edge, watching every beautiful twist of the muscles in his back and ass, part of him still astounded that Will would allow this.

Will’s head rested off to the side, eyes cast back toward Hannibal as he started to come as his answer, gasping louder and clutching Hannibal’s ankle and thigh with his hands. “Fuck, y-yes-”   
  
“Don’t be quiet this time, let me hear you,” Hannibal purred as he rubbed Will’s prostate faster, bringing Will over the edge more forcefully with a finger than with his tongue.

Gripping Hannibal’s thigh tightly, he moved and canted his hips to get friction against his cock until he finally spilled, moaning louder as the gasps cam heavier and his body wrenched and moved out of his control.

Hannibal closed his eyes at the sound of Will moaning loudly as he came, enjoying them as he would a symphony. His fingering slowed, and he felt Will’s body squeeze and tremble around him. Finally, Hannibal pulled his finger out, slowly, and bent down to kiss the back of Will’s sweaty shoulders. “Beautiful…”

After a moment, Will took a few deep breaths. “Everything check out, Doctor Lecter?”

Hannibal laid back on the bed, and pulled Will over him with a kiss to his lips. “Inconclusive, I’ll have to re-examine you soon.”

Will crawled over Hannibal, laying on him like a thick blanket. “I’ll probably let you…”

“I look forward to it,” Hannibal whispered, and held Will, happily, enjoying the weight and warmth of his body as he looked down at Will’s slightly pink ass. 

“Want anything in return?” Will asked, basking in bit of sun coming through the window through the snow.

Hannibal smirked, and stroked his fingers over Will’s back. “A shower would be lovely, or a bath, but we seem to be without. Aside from that, absolutely anything from you. I’m quite open to experimentation.”

“What sort?” Will asked, needing some direction where he wasn’t quite sure where to go.

Hannibal smiled at Will’s question. “I enjoy pain, sometimes, both giving and receiving dominance. My interest in seeing you in uniform has been a frequent source of my private fantasies. I enjoy the sensual just as much as the overtly sexual. Your mouth, earlier, was exquisite,” Hannibal said as he thumbed Will’s lower lip. “With you, I enjoy the things I would find dull, and uninspiring with anyone else. Laying in bed, sleeping as we touch, they are thrilling, with you.”

“So what you’re saying is anything I want to do,” Will said with a gleam in his eyes. He rolled off Hannibal and went to the close he’d found the fishing gear and pulled out a length of rope.

“Aside from seeing you with another, I cannot imagine I would not enjoy-” Hannibal stopped speaking, and tilted his head at the rope in Will’s hands. “You already have ideas…”

“I don’t have much,” Will said, slyly smiling at Hannibal, “Turn over.”

Hannibal returned the smile, and rolled over on his stomach, stretched out handsomely on the bed. The brand from Mason on the middle of his back caught the afternoon sun.

Will ran his hand down Hannibal’s back and over the brand, having only heard about it, and not seen it until he was forced to help Chiyoh disrobe Hannibal and tend to his wounds. Will took Hannibal’s hand and tied them, slipping between his thighs, spreading them apart just so.

Hannibal’s lips dropped open, and he spread his thighs for Will as his wrists were bound, already hard against the bed as Will bound him. “I prefer your brand, against my chest.”

“That’s the only one that matters,” Will said, holding Hannibal’s bound wrists with the rest of the rope, tugging on it gently as he ran his free hand down Hannibal’s spine, all the way to his tailbone.

Hannibal shivered with pleasure at the touch, and the feeling of Will having control over him, now. “Have you ever imagined me, bound?”

“Yes,” Will admitted, contemplating tying Hannibal’s wrists to his ankles, but preferred having him open like this. He spread Hannibal’s ass with one hand, taking in sights he’d never seen, exploring.

Hannibal relaxed into it. He’d never felt an ounce of shame about his long, lean body, and smiled as Will touched and explored him. “Did you enjoy the thought?”

“Yes,” Will stated, the thought of bringing Hannibal to another orgasm was satisfying enough that it spurred him on, pressing his thumb against Hannibal’s entrance.

Hannibal gasped, and his thighs flexed, then spread a little wider as his breathing picked up. “Will-”

Will dropped to the floor on his knees and pull Hannibal back with the rope, his legs off the bed a little. He  pushed Hannibal’s cheeks apart once more and a tentative lick to his hole.

Hannibal gasped again, more deeply, surprised by Will’s boldness. His fingers curled into the thick rope around his wrists, and he shivered. “ _ Will _ -” he repeated, with an almost helpless tone, sweat beading on his skin.

“I can stop,” Will offered quietly, breathing against the spot he’s licked.

“No-” Hannibal breathed, a hint of desperation in his voice, “no, don’t stop-” he whispered, breathless already. His body had not felt anything like this in … years, and never from Will.

Licking again,Will wet Hannibal completely, and pressed his thumb into the spot, slowly, curling his tongue around it, trying to get it as wet as possible while tugging on Hannibal’s restraints. Will had never done this with anyone, and had only ever daydreamed about it with Hannibal.

Hannibal arched back with a stunned moan, bending himself backward for Will as Will’s tongue sent fireworks through his body, up his spine, down his thighs. “Yes….” he moaned, raggedly, his voice deep and rough.    
  
Hannibal’s body was tight, perfectly tight around Will’s thumb, and throbbed with an insistent pulse already.

Will pushed his thumb in, looking for that same spot Hannibal had found in him, and pressed lightly against it, wetting the spot and his digit as he went, feeding off Hannibal’s sounds, taking in all his emotion willingly.

Utter euphoria swelled in Hannibal as Will pressed his digit in, and he let loose a few words in Lithuanian when Will’s thumb brushed his prostate, both hands clenched tightly under the onslaught of pleasure. “There- There, Will -” Hannibal moaned, shamelessly, and spread his thighs wider.

Will pressed his thumb in further, licking around the tight ring of muscle there as he pushed against Hannibal’s prostate, stroking and prodding. He bit the soft side of Hannibal’s cheek, sucking a bruise there.

Hannibal moaned at the bite, his head rising as he arched his back and pressed his body back against Will’s thumb, eager and lost in the sensation. “Harder-” he pleaded, his voice shaking already.

Biting harder at the request, Will then licked over the spot, and did it again, working his thumb in faster and faster, groaning against Hannibal as he fed off his emotional feedback.

Hannibal rutted himself back and over Will’s thumb, his body starting to wind up tight, breath going short. The knowledge that Will was doing this to him, even just with his thumb, that it was Will’s teeth in his ass was overwhelming. Hannibal came at the sight of it, when he turned his head back to look.    
  
Hannibal lost control, shaking violently as he moaned loudly, Will’s name laced into the sound as he came against the bed covers with a bright flash of light behind his eyes.

Finally, after Hannibal came, Will pulled his mouth off and his thumb out, and kissed over the bruising bite. “Good?” he asked, coyly.

Hannibal felt like he had champagne running through his veins, bubbling, light, and intoxicating. He looked back at Will, and nodded, speechless.

Will undid the sailor’s knot, and let Hannibal loose. “Good,” he murmured, turning Hannibal over to kiss him.

Hannibal rolled over, loose-limbed and warm, and wrapped his arms around Will to kiss him deeply on the lips, still trembling on the inside from the force of his orgasm. “Hard to believe you’ve never done that,” Hannibal whispered, catching his breath.

“I’m very good at mimicking,” Will whispered, covering them with the blanket as they curled up together, warm in their bliss.

“You are,” Hannibal whispered back, and pulled Will to lay over his chest, holding him tightly. “Did you enjoy it?”

“I did,” Will admitted, gazing at Hannibal up close, tangling their feet together. There was so much they could explore and try together, but it would have to wait until they had better cover than a blanket of snow and a run down cabin.

Hannibal ran his palm over the back of Will’s head, and kissed him again, slowly. If Will hadn’t liked it, if Will wasn’t willing to be with a man that way, Hannibal knew he would take whatever he could get with Will. He never imagined he would be this much in love, yet, here he was. “Good.”

“I think  I’d try anything with you,” Will sighed, against Hannibal’s lips, softly. Love was strange that way.

“Anything? There is nothing you would say no to?” Hannibal asked, as they snuggled, messy and happy.

“I’m not sure yet. So far I’ve wanted to do it all,” Will whispered, resting his head on Hannibal’s shoulder.

Hannibal nodded, and held Will to his chest. “I won’t share you. That is my limit.”

“I’m not much on sharing either,” Will insisted, kissing the underside of Hannibal’s chin.

“I think, perhaps, that’s only for situations without such intense emotional connection,” Hannibal whispered as he tipped his head up for the kisses, eyes closed, arms still around Will’s back.

“And when are those situations, exactly?” Will whispered back, nuzzling against Hannibal’s neck, content.

“Every situation I’ve ever had, but this one,” Hannibal replied, honestly, his arms locked around Will’s body as they breathed together.

Will hummed at that, eyes drifting closed. “Then we’re agreed that we’ll never share.”

“Agreed,” Hannibal whispered, and sighed as he fell asleep, arms still locked tight around Will.


	6. Chapter 6

Early the next day, the snow had finally stopped, and Will dressed in his own clothes plus the snow attire to go out and start shoveling through what had fallen dense onto the ground, working on getting the truck unstuck. Chances were if the snow had stopped, the FBI had begun once more.

 Hannibal was still in bed, having slept solidly, and woke when the cold draft from the opened door hit his bare skin. He blinked and stretched, then looked over at Will. “Has it stopped snowing?”

 “Yeah,” Will said, tossing the shovel to the side as he came back in, a clear path made to the truck, and out the way they came. He’d been at it for a while, letting Hannibal sleep. “Which means we should probably get a move on.”

 “Absolutely,” Hannibal agreed with a heavy sigh, and stood to dress. They should have set out the second the snow began to thin, but they had been too distracted by each other. Hannibal dressed quickly, and set about covering their tracks inside as much as possible. He threw the now quite dirty sheets into the fireplace and let them burn, destroying the evidence.

 Will started to gather their things into the packs, and left out pills for Hannibal to take with their last bottle of water. He packed up the cooked fish and extra cans of beans and took the bags to the truck. He set the snow suit inside the truck if they needed it later, and checked the phone, battery dead. 

 “Need to find a charging port at some point.”

 “Can we purchase a vehicle charger?” Hannibal asked, and took a last look at the tiny cabin. Setting fire to it would draw far too much attention to their hideout, even if it would destroy any evidence that they were there. He filled a pot with water and used it to extinguish the flames.

 “Yeah, we can. Maybe the next gas station,” Will suggested, slipping his gun into the back of his pants, knife in his boot.

 Hannibal checked again to be certain they had everything, and closed the door before he joined Will at the truck. “I never thought I would be sorry to say goodbye to the shed,” Hannibal said, fondly, as he climbed in, and turned the rear view mirror so he could begin applying his disguise, again.

 Will turned the truck on, starting the engine to warm up, giving Hannibal time with his look. They were both stubbled, but there was little to be done about that without new razors. He got in and turned the heat on, waiting.

 Once the nose was on, and blended into Hannibal’s face with foundation, he set the wig on his head and sighed heavily before turning the mirror back to Will. “I’m sufficiently ugly, we’re free to go.”

 Will tugged on the ugly trucker hat, and then leaned over to kiss Hannibal’s jaw. “No matter what you look like, I can’t take my eyes off you.”

 Hannibal shook his head in disbelief, but smiled. “Perhaps you really do need those glasses of yours,” he teased.

 Will rolled his eyes and put the truck into drive, making his way through the path he created much earlier that morning, no new snow having fallen. He went out the way they had come, and luckily this time there was no police blockage keeping them from moving through, though most of the roads had been plowed.

 Hannibal picked up the phone, considering it. “We may want to ensure we can charge the phone at the first opportunity, how is our supply of fuel?”

 “We’re less than a quarter tank,” Will sighed, checking the road signs for nearest gas stop.

 Hannibal pulled the map out of the glove compartment, and opened it. “The next town is approximately a half hour away, we should be able to make it there, hopefully. I doubt this is an efficient engine.” 

"We’ll be fine,” Will said, hands on the wheel as he kept hyper aware of everything around them. Jack and the police could be hidden around any turn, and there was no way to know without the phone.   


“It’s very possible that they have focused their search on the other side of the mountain range, and assumed we traveled through,” Hannibal said, doing the same as he looked out the windows while Will drove.

 “Which will make our exit of the mountain a little harder,” Will suggested, but that hardly mattered right now. They would deal with that when they came up on it.

 “Indeed, it may,” Hannibal agreed. His eyes spotted a flash of red and blue up ahead. Lights.   
  
Just one police car on the side of the road, with another car pulled over, likely for a speeding ticket.

 Will tensed a little, and looked at the car, pulling his hat down over his head a bit more. Casual was best, they were just driving through, after all. Hannibal kept his head turned slightly away, but watched from his peripheral vision. The officer looked up at them as they passed.   
  
“He looked, but that’s hardly telling,” Hannibal said, calmly.

 “He’s writing a ticket, why would he speed off to get us?” Will reasoned, licking his lips with a look back in his side mirror.

 “If he had a description of what we are driving,” Hannibal suggested, and watched in the passenger side mirror, intently.

 “If,” Will sighed, but kept a casual pace, no use trying to outrun the cop who might not even be after them.

 “There he is,” Hannibal said, able to see the police cruiser on the road at a distance. 

 Will gave Hannibal a look. He’d have to see if the cruiser would speed up.

 “Gas station just a head, on the right. I think we have to stop here. We will see if our friend does the same,” Hannibal said, his voice as relaxed as ever.

 Will nodded and when the gas station came up, he pulled into one of the pumps, parking the car as if they were going to get out for gas and a rest, which they were. “Do you want to wait here this time? I’ll go pay?”

 “I’ll go, I’m more heavily disguised than you are,” Hannibal said, with a reassuring look at Will as he handed him the sunglasses from earlier. “Put these on. Coffee?”  
  
Hannibal was relaxed, of course, but he was nearly always relaxed under extreme pressure and stress.

 “Yes,” Will said, putting the glasses on, and handed Hannibal the envelope of cash. “Pump four.”

 “I’ll get something,” Hannibal promised, and touched Will’s chest. “Relax, Will. Enjoy it.”

 He smiled and let himself out of the truck, then ambled to the station, even his stride very much unlike Hannibal Lecter’s at the moment.

 Will sighed, watching the side mirrors for the cop, head resting in his hand, elbow against the rolled down window. Relaxing wasn’t really something he could do when they could be entering troubling territory.

 The cop pulled into the gas station slowly, up to a pump, and got out after a moment at the pump next to Will to put gas in the cruiser. He looked at Will, and nodded, both of them wearing dark glasses.

 Will eyed the man but nodded back with a faint smile, now wishing he had those pamphlets made already, just in case. He checked over at the pump to see if Hannibal had gotten the money there yet.

 Hannibal walked out, a bag in hand, and two coffees in a tray. He walked to the truck, not giving the cop a second glance. “Black coffee, and muffins, Cal,” he said, as he tried to climb in the truck, apparently confused by how to open the door with what he had in his hands.

 Will leaned over the seat and pushed the door open and helped take the tray from Hannibal. “Thanks, Elias,” he said, a very non-southern accent, more East coast. He set the coffees down once Hannibal was in and got out. He pulled the cap off the tank and began to pump, keeping his posture straight and rigid, almost uncomfortably so.

 Elias climbed into the truck with a little stumble and turned to watch Cal pump gas. “What do you think of the properties?” he asked, awkwardly.  
  
The police officer abandoned his car, and began to walk toward them, slowly.

 “Might work out for a subdivision of the compound. Steve wanted to move west a bit more, I don’t see why not. The snow is… chilly, but nothing we can’t account for and work with,” Will said, steadily, like he’d trained himself to be calmer, more pronounced.

 “Excuse me,” the cop said as he came closer, and bent down to pick something up off of the ground. “You dropped this, or your friend did,” he said, and handed a muffin to Cal.

 Cal took the muffin, gratefully. “Oh, thank you. Elias,” he turned to the other man in the car and handed him the muffin. 

 Elias took the muffin with a nod, and looked the officer over, almost shyly. “Must have been a hole in the bag,” he muttered, embarrassed.   
  
“Where’re you folks headed?” the officer asked Cal.

 “Ohio. Searching out new places for the Meyerists to settle in next,” Cal said, looking at Elias. “He’s helping me out, he’s better with the business side of things.”

 “Meyerists?” the cop asked, looking away from Elias’ big, but thoroughly awkward smile.

 “Yes. We’re a mostly start up Movement,” Cal explained, “It’s not very big yet, we’re working on that. The idea is to expand to midwest and then further west… really reach out to people, give them the means to know the Light.”

 “Oh, religious,” the cop nodded, and looked at the truck, then Cal again, like he was trying to make up his mind about something.

 “In a way, yes. We’re comparable to Religious Movements. The Light is much like God, to those who need a different understanding, but we don’t use the bible,” Cal explained, much more enthused now that he had the cop’s attention. 

 “So … what do you use, then?” the cop asked as he watched Elias start to eat in the truck, bits of muffin stuck in his facial hair. He looked back at Cal, who was … intense.

 “A book that Doctor Steve Meyer is trying to get into publication. It’s a long way but we’re working on it. It’s a guide, to the rungs of the Ladder that we climb to reach our full potential as people and secure a place in the Garden when the world ends, when we end.”

 “Yes, the ladder,” Elias echoed, from the truck. “We’re having pamphlets made,” he said, proudly, “Cal’s very, very smart.”

 “Okay, so, when do you all think the world is ending? Just curious,” the officer asked Cal, tilting his head at him.

 “We don’t have a definite set date,” Cal explained, spreading his hands. “The world is ever in motion as are the people in. We’re hoping to reach enough people that they understand the things they are doing are _killing_ the world. If we just change our ways, and do everything a little different, we will add years onto the Earth for the next generations…” 

 “Yeah, that’s … that’s messed up and all. Well, have a good trip,” the officer said, a little bored as he glazed over when Cal started to talk about the environment.

 “Oh, thank you,” Cal said and watched the officer walk off again, and Cal pulled the pump from the truck and set it back, and then put the cap on. He got into the truck and shut the door, looking over at Hannibal.

 “Let’s go, slowly, casually,” Hannibal said as he sipped his coffee and brushed crumbs from his moustache and scruffy beard. “He could be a very good actor and radioing his backup right now.”

 “Yes, I know,” Will said, and got the truck going once more. “Did you get a charger for the phone?”

 “Of course,” Hannibal said, as he nodded to the charger that he already had plugged into the cigarette lighter, phone at the end of it’s line. “It will be a little while before it’s charged sufficiently to use at all.”

 "That’s fine,” Will sighed, and then put the truck into drive, and pulled out of the space, slowly, watching the road as they got back onto it, checking to see if the officer followed.

 The officer didn’t follow, not immediately, anyhow. Hannibal handed Will his coffee. “We haven’t eaten in a long time. Fleeing on an empty stomach is difficult.”

 Will took the coffee and sipped on it as he drove them through the mountains. “How much do you think he believed?” 

 “He looked quite genuinely bored when you went on about the movement,” Hannibal said, encouragingly, as he unwrapped a muffin for Will, and handed him a piece.

 “That was the point,” Will said, opening his mouth for the piece, both hands busy.

 Hannibal chuckled and fed Will the bit of muffin, then sipped his own coffee. “I’ve decided that if I met Elias, I’d have to murder and cook him, immediately.”

 “Oh?” Will chuckled, chewing the piece in his mouth and then washed it down with coffee. “Why is that?”

 “He’s insufferable,” Hannibal said, as he offered Will another piece of muffin while he drove. “I’m certain he eats meals with his hands and chases every woman he sees.”

 Will ate the next bite but almost choked. “Every woman?” He gave Hannibal a look.

 “As I said, I’d have to cook him, immediately,” Hannibal said. “I have no plans on doing anything at all like that, I was merely considering him, as a character.”

 Will hummed at that. “And how do you see Cal?”

 Hannibal considered Will as he fed him more of the muffin, “I think he’s been indoctrinated from a young age, quite likely moved from one sort of abuse to another. I’d guess he does his best to keep a tight lid on the aftermath of the abuse that simmers inside him, to appear to his follows as the wise and benevolent leader, but fails when he is challenged, in any way. I think he’s very capable of murder due to his inability to keep himself from splitting between seeing a person, or a situation as all good, or all bad. Cal is very black and white. He struggles to reconcile the abuse he experienced with his idolization of his abuser, and copes with alcohol.”

 Will smiled over at Hannibal, sipping his coffee after another bite. “We’re on the same page then, that’s good. Complicated, but very realistic, given the background he’s probably from. Alcoholic, abusive parents, meeting Doctor Meyer, who… used him for his own purposes…”

 “An experience which traumatized and emasculated Cal for life,” Hannibal agreed, building Cal up as a character between them, creating him from scratch. “He seeks the validation of his followers to ease the shame he feels. Like many who have been abused as a child, he is certain that he was a willing and equal participant in the acts, and therefore, feels at fault for the inappropriate relationship. I’d give him the same advice I gave Margo: killing one’s abuser is the best therapy there is.”

 “Something of which, Cal won’t do on his own,” Will mused, setting the coffee back into the drink holder, still no sign of the cop or any others behind them. 

“A shame,” Hannibal sighed, and gave Will the last of the muffin before he checked the mirror on the passenger door. “Nothing yet. I think perhaps we managed to bore him into leaving us alone.” 

“Nothing worse than pulling over a few religious men without merit,” Will commented, chewing contently as they made their way around the and through the mountains. 

“Even if the religion is unknown, and a little odd,” Hannibal chuckled, then pulled some beef jerky from the bag and offered some to Will. 

“Can’t discriminate,” Will sighed, leaning back and reaching for a piece, more famished than he realized, as they hadn’t really eaten enough to keep up their levels. 

“Unwise, in this day and age,” Hannibal said, amused as he gave Will a large piece, glad to see him eating after they’d been rather desperate for a few days. “Are we still hoping to acquire a hotel in Ohio?” 

“Maybe. We did just tell that cop where we were going,” Will explained, not sure it was wise to stay in the state or not. 

“Perhaps a change is in order, in that case,” Hannibal mused, and took the map out, again, after handing Will another piece of jerky. “We could attempt to lose ourselves in the crowd in New York City, switch vehicles, and start out again in the morning.” 

"What about Jersey?” Will asked, thinking over where they were exactly. “New York seems obvious, but Jersey might not be.”

 Hannibal considered it, with a pained look in his eyes at the thought. “Hm,” he considered, and poured over the map a little more. “Shall we stay more to the West and spend the night in Pennsylvania?”

 “Just tell me where to turn off,” Will agreed.

 “When we come to the next major highway, proceed south. It will bring us to the welcoming arms of … Scranton,” Hannibal said, choosing the most major city in the state on their path. “I’m certain it features no end of three star attractions.”

 “Perfect,” Will said, and they drove on in silence for a bit longer, and he took the exit for the freeway and slid onto it into the traffic seamlessly.

 “There we are, my navigational duties are done,” Hannibal said and sipped his coffee with a sigh, then picked up the phone, which was now half charged. “A cursory look for our names in the news should be revealing.”

 “We’ll need to ditch the truck,” Will sighed, kind of growing fond of it, but he knew it wouldn’t do them well to keep to one vehicle.

 “I’m sorry, Will,” Hannibal said as he patted Will’s knee, and looked at the results of the search. “The FBI are besieged with sightings of the two of us, some as far away as Poland…”

 “Poland. Well, I guess we’ve not much to worry about,” Will chuckled, looking briefly down at Hannibal’s hand on his knee.

 Hannibal pressed play on a news story featured at the top of the search results. “This is dated earlier this morning,” he said as the reporter began to introduce their backgrounds.

 “The search for Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham has taken a chaotic turn as sightings have poured in from the Eastern United States, Canada, parts of Great Britain, and Poland. We spoke to Jack Crawford, head of the FBI Behavioural Analysis unit, where the duo had collaborated, previously.”  
  
Jack’s voice rang out from the phone, irritated and familiar, “the search is still very much on for the suspects, do NOT contact the FBI unless you have a serious sighting to report. I have no other comments at this time!” Jack thundered, and walked away from the reporters, looking angry and tired. 

 “We spoke to Molly Graham, Will Graham’s wife, who is currently recovering with her family from her injuries when she was attacked by Francis Dolarhyde, who is presumed to be Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter’s latest victim.”  
  
The camera flashed to an equally drained looking Molly outside of a green and white house in the country, a road sign visible from the shot. “I haven’t heard from him, I don’t expect to,” she said, dully, and turned away to go into the house as dogs ran around and barked in the background.  
  
“More on the latest sightings at nine,” the reporter said, and the video went black.

 Will paled a little, hearing how horribly Molly sounded, the last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt her, and yet he had, indefinitely. He frowned, mostly just wishing he had his dogs.

 “They don’t know where we are.”

 Hannibal had never seen Molly before, or heard her voice. Having just done both made her infinitely more real. “At least, that is what they want us to think.”

 “They have ideas, no real places,” Will said, both hands on the wheel.

 “How many times, during an investigation while you worked for Jack, was the media kept in the dark so that the suspects were kept unaware?” Hannibal pointed out, and did his best not to fixate on Molly again, whom he felt himself hate on sight.

 “Yeah, but most of those ideas were mine,” Will also pointed out with one shrugged shoulder. “But Jack would try. He might have even told that officer to let us go so we’d end up in Ohio with them waiting for us.”

 “I doubt very much that anyone except the exceptionally stupid and the exceptionally brave would attempt to apprehend us alone, even with a gun,” Hannibal agreed. “There could be a swat team waiting in Ohio.”

 “Likely is, if Jack thinks we’re stupid enough to have told him that and continue on our way,” Will sighed, “the sooner we get those pamphlets done the better, too.”

 "I’m sure we can manage that in Scranton,” Hannibal said, looking at Will’s profile as he handed him another piece of jerky.

 “A place with a computer and a lounge would be great,” Will said, looking at Hannibal for a moment, knowingly.

 “I’ll see what I can find,” Hannibal said as he thumbed through the phone screens, again. “You’re not upset,” he noted.

 “Should I be?” Will asked, finally putting the other piece of jerky into his mouth.

 “No, simply an observation. I’m relieved,” Hannibal said, and sipped his own cooling coffee.

 “I let go weeks ago,” Will explained, reaching for his coffee once more to wash down the jerky. “While you were in and out a lot.”

 “The moment of pain that crossed your face was for the dogs, then?” Hannibal asked, confirming what he had suspected. “Did you recognize who was making all the noise?”

 “I felt bad for leaving her, but better than this way,” Will explained, and then chanced a glance at Hannibal. “Buster.”

 “The small one, the leader,” Hannibal smiled, able to remember the feisty jack Russell.

 “Yes, that one.” Will smiled at that, glad Buster was doing well enough to make that much noise at all.

 “He’s your favourite?” Hannibal asked, knowingly.

 “He and Winston, though I love all my dogs, Hannibal,” Will replied, as though there’d be no doubt of that. “I feel bad leaving them with her.”

“They were your family, long before you met me,” Hannibal said, and watched the video again, without the volume on, able to see the dogs in the distance. Buster was jumping at a wire fence, barking at the reporter and cameraman.

 “The only family I had,” Will said, sighing, but shook the ache from his chest as he changed lanes.

 “We’ll build a new family,” Hannibal assured Will, with a touch to Will’s shoulder, comforting him as the scenery began to change around them.

 The little plush dog on the dashboard stared back at them as they drove, and Will nodded. “Yeah. Did you find a hotel? Maybe we need to ditch the truck before then.”

 Hannibal turned back to the phone, and searched for a moment. “Springhill Suites. Three stars, and vacancy for this evening,” he nodded, thumbing through the photos. It would do.

 “How far?” Will gauged the road and switched lanes again to get off, so they could find another vehicle.

 “It will not be far from where we enter the city. Near the airport,” Hannibal explained, and finished his coffee.

 “Where do you want to ditch this truck and get something else?” Will asked, wondering if the airport would be too obvious to take from again.

 “We should wait until we’re in the city to take something, stealing a car from a smaller center will be too conspicuous,” Hannibal sighed. “Perhaps some sort of sport utility vehicle this time, with tinted windows, an older model.”

 “Okay,” Will said, but kept to the slow lane, just in case. “Good idea. More room anyway.”

 “Precisely,” Hannibal said, and stifled a yawn before he stretched his neck.

 “Sleep, we’ll get there soon,” Will said, more alert than he should be after being up before Hannibal.

 “You’re sure?” Hannibal asked, settling in his seat, turned toward Will. 

 “Yeah. I got it,” Will assured with a  smile over at Hannibal.

 “Wake me when we reach the city, please.” Hannibal leaned over and kissed Will’s cheek, twice, then settled back in his seat and closed his eyes, falling asleep as Will drove.

 Hours later, they entered the city and Will was leaning over one hand to shake Hannibal awake. “Hannibal, we’re here.”

 Hannibal opened his dark eyes from a dream he had that he and Will were living in an abandoned mansion, and looked over at Will as he woke. “Already?” he asked as he stretched his legs, and sat up straight, looking around at the city.

 “Yeah,” Will said, getting ready to pull off the freeway in search of something better for their vehicle.

 “Thank you, I suppose I was tired,” Hannibal said, and looked around, with Will. “Perhaps in that lot, back there, something difficult to see from the main road.”

 Will nodded as he drove, and toward the lot, but parked the truck further back, into the brush of tree to hide it there. They could walk a bit. He used his coat to wipe down the steering wheel and took their trash from the car and the dog off the dash.

 Hannibal used a napkin from the bag he’d brought earlier to wipe down the glove compartment, and both sets of door handles as well as the rearview mirror, and seat buckles, then looked the car over and closed the door without touching it. “It would be best if we removed the plate in the back,” he mused, and went to the back.   
  
It was cold enough that Hannibal’s breath hung in the air as he crouched, and managed to loosen the nuts that held the plate on with his fingers and a lot of effort. “There we are,” he said, and put the plate in the dufflebag Will carried with a smile. “I’ve done this before.”

 “Apparently so,” Will said, bags over his shoulders, their trash in another bag he held in one hand.

 “We’ll dispose of our trash somewhere unrelated, far off. As much as I detest carrying refuse with us, it’s important to scatter any possible clues as much as we can to avoid leaving a chain of useable evidence,” Hannibal said, with a light tone, as though they were discussing nothing more than a pleasant Sunday walk, not being on the run for murder.

 Will raised a brow at Hannibal’s tone, but kept walking. “I was going to just dump on the side of the road.”

 “Once we’re a few miles from here, a splendid idea. Perhaps we should take a cab to another area of town, and find-” Hannibal turned his head at the sight of a man staggering out of the back door of a bar, obviously intoxicated. “Hmm.”  
  
The man pulled a set of keys from his pocket, dropped them, picked them up, and dropped them again, wavering, before he made his way to an old-looking SUV. “No tinted windows, but, I think we’ve found our next vehicle. Shall we be good samaritans and prevent this man from committing vehicular homicide?” Hannibal asked, in a cheerful tone as he picked up a brick from the side of the alley they were in, and put it under his coat.

 “After you,” Will said, his hands full, he followed after Hannibal.

 Hannibal walked after the man silently as he tried to unlock his vehicle, scratching the side of it with the tip of his key, over and over before he slid it in and unlocked it. Hannibal used the brick to strike the back of his head, expertly, just over the brain stem, which made the drunk slump to the ground, door open, keys hanging from it. “There we are,” Hannibal smiled, and stepped over him to sit in the driver’s seat. “Not a smoker, thankfully,” he said after taking a deep breath and adjusting the seat.

 “We should put him in the truck,” Will said, in a hushed tone, looking down at the body on the ground. “Less evidence, remember?”

 Hannibal looked at Will, then stepped out of the vehicle and closed the door, pocketed the keys, and kissed Will full on the lips for the thought. “Cunning boy. Help me lift him.”

 Will set the bags into back of the SUV and shut the door again, and then gathered the man up under the arms to take most of his weight.

 “We should try to drag him as though he’s merely drunk,” Hannibal reasoned, and took one side of the heavy-set man’s torso, looping his arm around his own neck. “Like so. Less suspicious should anyone happen by.”

 “Good point,” Will grunted, taking the man’s other arm over his shoulder, arm around his middle, and began to walk with Hannibal, the man’s feet dragging a little.

 Together, they heaved the portly drunk to the red truck, and managed to heave him in, behind the driver’s seat. Hannibal pushed his head so that he was slumped over the wheel, and then wiped their prints from the door, again. “Brilliant idea,” he murmured to Will with a smile, and kissed his cheek. 

 Will plopped the keys into the man’s hand before they left and walked back to the SUV. “Better than leaving him on the ground…” He smiled over at Hannibal, reaching for his hand to touch his fingers.

 Hannibal laced their fingers together, sweetly, and kissed Will again as they walked to the SUV, like they were on a romantic date. “Would you like to drive, or shall I?”

 “Do you want to drive?” Will asked, having done all of it so far, but they were in the town now, and hotel shouldn’t be too far.

 “I’ll drive. It’s been quite sometime, and you deserve a break,” Hannibal said as he took the keys and got in the driver’s side, again, then opened the passenger door for Will.

 Will slipped into the passenger seat this time, and buckled in, vaguely reminded of months ago when Hannibal had done the same with the police car, and just how apprehensive he’d been then. He rubbed his hands down his thighs with a sigh.

 “Where are we headed?” Hannibal asked with a little smile as he drove them out of the rough area of the city. The SUV was a little smoother than the truck, thankfully, not quite as bumpy.

 Will took up the phone once more, plugging it into the SUV’s cigarette lighter outlet, and brought up the map, and then set the phone to give directions verbally. “Hotel?”

 “Springhill Suites,” Hannibal said, as they came to a gentle stop at a red light.

 Will plugged in the name and the phone found the hotel and started to give them directions. “Perfect.”

 It only took twenty minutes to find the hotel, and Hannibal parked the SUV near the door, and let out a sigh of relief. “My standards for a hotel have been lowered. All I care about at the moment is the shower.”

 Will laughed, and pulled the bag from the back, taking money from an envelope. “I’ll secure us a room.”

 “I’ll come with you. It seems this hotel is upscale enough that we enter from the _inside_ hallway,” Hannibal chuckled, and took their duffle bag. 

 Will rolled his eyes but waited for Hannibal as he gathered their bags. They walked in together and then Will talked to the person at the desk, gave them money, and was in turn given a keycard. He thanked the woman and then gestured to the elevator for Hannibal to follow.

 Hannibal followed Will, and smiled once they were in the elevator. He opened his mouth to say something, and they were joined by a woman with two dogs on a leash. The dogs sat nicely, but wagged at Will. “It’s so hard to find a place that will take them,” the woman said, with a little laugh.

 “Oh, they allow dogs here?” Will asked, wiggling his free fingers at the dogs with a smile. “That must be nice to travel with them.”

 “It is,” the woman said with a smile at Will that made Hannibal shift his jaw, “do you have any?”

 “I… not anymore,” Will said with a sigh. “I travel too much.”

 “That’s a shame, I’m Janessa,” she said, with an even bigger smile. The elevator stopped, and Hannibal cleared his throat. “Oh, sorry, this is my floor. See you later, I guess…” she said, and led the dogs out, slowly.

 “Lovely to meet you,” Will said and then looked at Hannibal when she was out, and pushed the doors closed again with the button before anything else could be said. “No.”

 Hannibal passed his tongue over the back of his teeth inside his mouth, black eyes fixed on the door of the elevator. “She’s just _lovely._ ” 

 “Would you prefer I was rude?” Will asked, quirking a brow toward the other man as the elevator rose to the fourth floor.

 “I’d prefer you introduced me, instead of flirted with her,” Hannibal said when the doors opened, a chill in his voice.

 “I…. flirted with her?” Will questioned, completely confused. All he really wanted to do was pet her dogs.

 “She seemed to think so,” Hannibal said, and walked out. He was calm on the outside, and seething on the inside.

 “What she thinks and what I did are two different things. All I did was comment on the dogs. I didn’t even introduce myself,” Will added in as he followed after Hannibal.

 “Her next question was about to be to ask where you were staying,” he muttered, as he waited outside the door of their room for Will. He wasn’t accustomed to caring whether or not the person he was with attracted attention. It was uncomfortable to care now, to an irrational degree.

 “Well, good thing we didn’t get that far, isn’t it?” Will asked, bitterly, and slid the key into the lock and pushed the door open. He set their bags on one of the beds, and tossed the card down on the dresser.

 “A very good thing,” Hannibal retorted and pulled the wig off, then the nose, tossing them on the dresser as the door closed behind him. “What would you have done if it had?”

 “Politely tell her you and I were staying in the hotel, of course,” Will said, slightly annoyed that he was being accused of something he hadn’t even done.

 “And if she’d asked you for your number? Or to dinner?” Hannibal asked, annoyed that Will didn’t seem to see the problem. The woman had been ordinary looking, the perfect blend of plain with just enough prettiness not to stand out. Like Molly.

 “Don’t have one and no,” Will said, getting irritated quickly with this. “Why are you pestering me over something I haven’t done? If she flirted with me, I have no control over that.”

 “If someone very much like _Bedelia_ had done the same to me, you wouldn’t feel a stab of jealousy?” Hannibal asked, taking a step closer to Will, looking much more like himself now that he’d removed the disguise.

 “I’d feel territorial, but I wouldn’t be angry with _you_ if you hadn’t flirted back,” Will said, standing his ground as he took the hat off and tossed it on the bed.

 “I’ve seen you refuse to make eye contact with most of the people you meet, and barely talk to them. Being cold and rude to strangers is your baseline, Will,” Hannibal pointed out.

 Will sighed, “I just wanted to pet her fucking dogs.” Will huffed, exasperated now, and walked to the back door of the room to slide it open, and step out onto the little balcony.

 Hannibal sighed, and set his lips in a hard, thin line as he watched Will. He stepped into the bathroom, and closed the door as he undressed, running the shower as hot as it would go.

Will cleaned himself up with a shave and ran the clippers over his head once to get it down once more, and then took the card and went down to the lobby to use the computer to make up flyers. He sent them off to a place nearby to pick up later on, and then went back up to the room, letting himself in once more.

 Hannibal was shaved once more, and dressed, looking much more like himself. He sat on the bed, looking out at the city through the window in the balcony door. 

 Will moved around the bed and stood between Hannibal and the door, and then rested his hands on Hannibal’s shoulders, straddling his thighs. He rested their heads together. “I would never intentionally hurt you. Not now. I cannot control other people and what they do.”

 Hannibal swallowed, and took a moment before he looked up at Will with dark, intense eyes, and put his hands on Will’s waist. “I think, perhaps, I was more upset at seeing your wife than you were.”

 “I know,” Will whispered, rubbing Hannibal’s shoulders. “I… can’t fix that either.”

 Hannibal laid back on the bed, and pulled Will down with him, both arms around his back. “Putting a face to her name made your life away from me real in a way that it had not been before. I’m aware my behavior regarding the woman in the elevator was irrational.”

 Will nodded, laying over Hannibal like this, and kissed him softly. “You need to trust me. I’m here with you, I’m not looking for anyone else.”

 Hannibal nodded, and kissed Will again, the snarling of his heart calmed, now that he’d analyzed what had caused its outburst.  “I know.”

 Will brushed his fingers down Hannibal’s mustache, smiling at him. “This tickles…”

 “I would love to shave it off,” Hannibal sighed. His irritation at his own disguise had not helped the situation in the elevator, either. 

 “I don’t mind it,” Will whispered and kissed Hannibal again, twice. “I made the pamphlets and sent it off to the copier down the street.”

 “That sounds like a wise idea, something concrete to help our story,” Hannibal said, and stole another kiss from Will. 

 “I have to pick them up in a few hours,” Will murmured nipping Hannibal’s bottom lip.

 “A few hours?” Hannibal asked, with a soft smile. “Whatever shall we do in the meantime?”

 “Order food, or…” Will kissed Hannibal again, this time much slower, “I’m sure we can find something.”

 “We do need to eat,” Hannibal whispered, against Will’s lips, able to feel that he was a little light headed, and Will had to be the same. “One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well,” he sighed, and smoothed his hand down Will’s back. 

 “Let’s see what the room service has?” Will suggested, though he wasn’t sure there was even room service available.

 Hannibal sighed, and nodded, but stole another kiss from Will’s neck as he turned to look for the room service menu. “It seems we are without room service, but there is a restaurant,” Hannibal said, displeased. 

 “Do they deliver?” Will chuckled, not wanting to leave again so soon, nor have Hannibal put his disguise back on.

 Hannibal read the little sign, “No. We could always order in from elsewhere, I imagine.” Hannibal brushed his lips over Will’s short hair over the top of his head.

 “I guess that depends on what you’d like to eat,” Will said, slipping off Hannibal to see if there was a notebook or something with menus.

 “Ideally? Peking duck, but at this point, I will settle for anything that will arrive in under an hour.”

 “You want chinese food?” Will asked, finding a menu for a place, and looked over the menu, too hungry to honestly care.

 “That will be fine,” Hannibal said, with a little smile at the difference between Peking duck and what could be delivered in an hour from the average Chinese restaurant.  

It wasn’t the same, but it was the closest Will could think of, honestly. He laid out on the bed, on his stomach and looked over the menu. “Rice? Noodles?”

 “Rice will be fine,” Hannibal said, watching the way Will looked more than he paid attention to what Will was ordering. It would likely all taste the same, at any rate.

 “They have a version of Peking Duck,” Will pointed out, looking up at Hannibal. “Is that okay? Or do you want something different?”

 “Something entirely different would be wise. Surprise me,” Hannibal said, as he fixed the collar of Will’s shirt for him. “We should look into more clothing, as well.”

 “Good idea,” Will said and then reached for the phone to dial. He ordered Kung Pao chicken and Mongolian beef with fried rice and potstickers. He hung up. “Okay,they said forty five minutes.”

 “How has your mouth been today? Still painful?” Hannibal asked as he thumbed the stitched line on the side of Will’s face, gently.

 “It aches but I think the antibiotics are working now,” Will answered, putting the phone back and rolling to lay on his back, gazing up at Hannibal.

 “It looks better,” Hannibal agreed as he stared down at Will, and undid his shirt. “Your bite mark is coming along nicely.”

 “I have a pretty good doctor,” Will answered with a grin. “How’s yours?”

 Hannibal undid his shirt, and showed Will. “A little red, but I think I can manage it with a topical cream,” Hannibal said, proudly. They both looked deep, but were starting to heal over, well.

 “There’s a drug store by the copy place, we can stop on the way,” Will suggested, reaching to touch the angry looking bite with his fingertips.

 “We should get a few things,” Hannibal said, as Will traced the outline his teeth had left in Hannibal’s chest.

 “New razors,” Will said, tugging Hannibal down for a kiss.

 “Lubricant…” Hannibal whispered back, against Will’s lips.

 Will’s breath hitched with that. “Eager to play doctor again?”

 “I would not be in my right mind if I was not,” Hannibal whispered, and nuzzled Will’s face.

 Will smiled at that, and palmed Hannibal’s neck, feeling his pulse. “I look forward to it.”

 “It makes everything smoother, easier,” Hannibal said, as he leaned his neck against Will’s palm. “I think you’ll enjoy the sensation.”

 “Well worth waiting for?” Will grinned, and tugged Hannibal down for one more kiss.

 “Even if it seems like forty-five minutes is too long, you’ve taken my mind off of food,” Hannibal chuckled, and kissed Will again, deeply.

 Will wrapped a leg over Hannibal’s hip, clutching him close this way as they kissed. “Happy to help.”

 Hannibal ran his hand over Will’s thigh as they kissed, “Have you had the chance to take a shower, yet?”

 “You were kind of in it,” Will answered, sure that Hannibal could smell that he hadn’t but cleaned his face with the sink when he shaved earlier.

 “Allow me to remedy that. I’ll assist you in the shower, perhaps massage your back for you after you’ve been driving for hours,” Hannibal offered, fondly.

 “Alright,” Will answered, and rolled so he was over Hannibal once more, and then off the bed. He unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way, stripping it off.

 Hannibal stood and followed Will, helping him with his pants from behind with a smile as he kissed Will’s throat. “The water is surprisingly warm, even if the pressure is low.”

 “Warm water is better than no water,” Will said, stepping out of his pants and shimmying his boxers off as he got into the bathroom. He leaned to turn the water on.

 Hannibal stripped his clothes off, and folded them, with Will’s trousers, then put them on the vanity before stepping in with Will. “Much better than no water.”

 Will kissed Hannibal as the spray pelted down on him, washing away the grime of the last few days they had without hot water. “I never thought I’d be so happy for hot water.”

 Hannibal picked up the bar of soap on the ledge, and used it to lather his hands before he rubbed them over Will’s back under the hot spray, keeping them close together. “Neither did I,” Hannibal purred.

 Will let his head get wet, not much hair to bother washing, holding onto Hannibal as he washed his back, hands roaming down his sides, to his hips. “Can’t take too long…”

 “A shame,” Hannibal sighed, and kissed Will’s exposed throat as he worked his sudsy hands down Will’s chest, washing the bite mark over his heart carefully. 

 “We’ll miss the food,” Will said with a little groan, head craned to the side as Hannibal’s lips seemed to burn into his skin pleasantly.

 “We have a little more time before it arrives,” Hannibal reassured Will, and lathered his hands again before moving them down Will’s hips, to his cock and balls, washing them, slowly.

 Will’s head fell forward as a little groan escaped past his lips, and he clutched Hannibal’s shoulders. “Just a little…”

 Enough to clean you off,” Hannibal purred, then ran his hands over Will’s ass as he kissed Will’s sharp jaw.

 “Need to be clean for later,” Will mused, more of a whisper than anything as he turned his head to kiss Hannibal properly.

 “Precisely,” Hannibal mumbled against Will’s lips as his fingers found the cleft of Will’s ass and teased it under the spray.

 Instinctively, Will parted his legs a little, thighs spreading for Hannibal as he kissed him harder, tongue slipping past parted lips hungrily.

 Hannibal teased Will’s entrance with his fingertips, letting them slip and dance over the nerves there as the water ran around them. “Are you looking forward to later?”

 Will was already hard just from this, just from thinking about it. “Yes,” he said, decidedly, knowing this was a tease, that he’d have to wait, only made him want it more. 

 “Imagine how good my fingers will feel, two of them this time, slick and flexing inside your body,” Hannibal whispered in Will’s ear.

 Tugging Hannibal closer by the hips, Will rocked his own forward, seeking friction as his eyes closed. “Just two?”

 “You want more?” Hannibal asked, as he rubbed against Will, just as erect as Will was at the thought of feeling him like that again, hearing him moan as he came…

 “Maybe-” Will said, rubbing his cock against Hannibal’s, ready to just grasp them both, but wanting to build it up for later, too.

 “I would love to give you more,” Hannibal whispered against Will’s ear as they tortured each other with what they wouldn’t let themselves get carried away with right now.

 Will shivered despite the warmth around them, hand going to their cocks to palm and fist, when a knock at the door came from the other room. “Shit-”

 “Time’s up,” Hannibal said with a smirk, and opened the shower door. He got out and wrapped himself in a towel, then laughed. “I’m not disguised, you’ll have to get it, Will, I’m sorry.”

 Will rolled his eyes and grabbed the robe from the closet, wrapping himself in it and then found cash from one of the bags. “One second,” he called out, and then finally got to the door hiding half behind it. He paid the man and took the food, shutting the door once more. The room filled with wonderful smells.

 Even Hannibal’s fussy senses were pleased with the scent of whatever was in the bag. He locked the door after Will shut it, and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you,” he said, and took the bag to unpack it at a tiny dining table, setting it for them as neatly as he could with what was in the bag.

 Will sat at the table and got out the chopsticks, tearing them in two, and then opened the containers as Hannibal set them out. “Smells good.”

 “It actually does,” Hannibal agreed as he took a deep breath of the food when he opened the containers, and took his seat after Will had taken his. Hannibal picked up the chopsticks, elegantly, and used them to try a piece of Kung Pow Chicken. He considered it as he chewed, the expression on his face going from amused to satisfied.

 “Not too bad?” Will asked, opening the beef dish and trying some of that and then poured rice into the lid of the container.

 “Not terrible, no,” Hannibal admitted, and tried another piece, then offered some to Will across the table. Both of them were still a little wet from the shower, dripping on the carpet.

 Will hummed around the piece offered and chewed, and then offered Hannibal some beef. “Maybe we’re just starved.”

 Hannibal leaned forward, and took the beef with this teeth, then chewed discreetly, and swallowed. “That could very well be half of it, regardless, I am in no mood to complain,” Hannibal sighed.

 Will smiled as he opened the potstickers and the little container of sauce it came with, dipping one in it and then shoving the whole thing in his mouth, chewing slowly. “Mm.”

 Hannibal looked at the potsticker and tried one as Will did, then smiled as he swallowed, catching Will’s eyes. “Did you also just think of the ortolans?”

 Will chuckled and sat back in his chair as swallowed. “I might have.”

 “That was one of the most memorable meals I’ve ever had, most of my memorable meals have been with you. I think the company is, perhaps, more important than the menu,” Hannibal admitted as he took another bite of his chicken.

 “I’d have to agree, but most of my other meals without you aren’t exciting,” Will admitted, and touched his bare toes to Hannibal as he continued to eat.

 Hannibal smiled at that, and offered Will another piece of his chicken on the end of his chop sticks. “Then we’ll have to eat together, from now on.”

 “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Will said and took the piece between his teeth and then chewed it slowly.  Will ate a little more and then set his chopsticks aside and went to redress once more.

 Hannibal did the same, and followed to apply his dreaded disguise again, and dress. “If there is anywhere that sells clothing at this hour, we should have more than a single outfit each.”

 “I'm sure we can find something,” Will said, doing up the buttons of his shirt to the very top.

 Hannibal stepped closer, and straightened Will’s collar with a smirk. “You are the very picture of repressed sexuality.”

 Will smiled, giving Hannibal a pointed look. “Better to be that way. Maybe it will keep off unwanted attention.”

 “Hopefully, but I doubt it very much,” Hannibal smiled and pulled Will closer to kiss him on the lips.

 “Then I hope my boyfriend realizes that I have eyes for no one else but him,” Will murmured against Hannibal’s mouth, hands on his hips.

 “Marvelous eyes that they are,” Hannibal whispered, and kissed Will again. “I hope that he realizes it, too.”

 Will nuzzled his nose against Hannibal’s and eyes half closed. “He might if he keeps being told.”

 “Like a dog who is resistant to learning? Consistency is key...” Hannibal asked with a soft smile, and caressed the back of Will’s neck with one hand. 

 With a roll of his eyes, Will stepped back and grabbed his things off the dresser, key card, too. “Compliments aren’t always well intended, I’ve learned.”

 Hannibal kissed Will’s cheek then opened their door and held it for him. “Whenever did you learn that?” he asked, innocently.

 “Everyday life. Being used for talents, told what I want to hear,” Will shrugged, pulling his jacket on, and stepped out into the hall.

 “There is a difference between flattery and a compliment, Cal,” Hannibal pointed out, using Will’s assumed name the moment they left the hotel room.

 “Yours are all compliments, no flattery?” Cal asked as Will slipped into the character, tight laced and timid, but commanding when he had to be.

 “I’m honest,” Elias said with a defensive, offended huff as they stepped into the waiting elevator. 

 “You're right, you are,” Cal said, stepping in with Elias and pushed the button for the ground floor.

 The elevator doors closed quickly and they descended to the main floor. “More honest than I am pretty,” Elias sighed, catching a glimpse of his ridiculous image in the mirrored doors next to Cal.

 Cal touched Elias’ shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly.  “I know what lies under all the layers, that is what's important.”

 Elias just sighed. “That’s easy for you to say,” he joked, and stared a moment longer at Cal when the elevator doors opened, smitten.

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cal murmured as they exited, out of the elevator and through the lobby. “It’s walkable, or we can drive.”

 “Let’s walk,” Elias said, as they walked out, staying close to Cal and just a little bit behind him as they moved through the small lobby. “Get a little fresh air.”

 “I like that idea. We’ve been couped on up on the road,” Cal sighed, hands on his side as they walked, a particular gait to his stride.

 Cal looked stiff, not approachable in the least, like all the muscle in his shoulder was tensed and raised a little when he walked. Elias tagged along, somehow walking with unnecessarily small steps as he seemed to try to keep up with him, and seemed to look at everyone as though he was challenging them. “Too long. I hate being inside too much.”

 “Even if you’re with me?” Cal asked, smiling a little over at Elias as they stopped at the crosswalk, waiting for the signal to cross, the copy shop just across the street.

 “Well-” Elias said with a little smile, and flushed, then touched the back of Cal’s elbow with one hand. “Maybe with you. Maybe,” he admitted, gazing at Cal like a lovesick puppy as they crossed the street.

 Cal slowed to be sure Elias kept up, and once on the sidewalk again, he clapped his hand to the middle of the other man’s back, leading him to the copy store. “I hope you like the pamphlets.”

 “I like anything you do,” Elias said, with adoring, deep brown eyes that seemed to hold Cal whole. 

 Cal opened the door and held it for them, letting Elias in first and then walked in after. He went to the counter and gave his order number and some cash, and the clerk went into the back to get them.

 "How long did it take to make them?” Elias asked, completely turned toward Cal, like a plant that had been starved of light turned toward the sun.

 “About an hour,” Cal said, hand pressed into the counter top as they waited, head canted toward Elias with a little smile, like Elias was the only person Cal did that for. 

 Elias returned the little smile, awkwardly, like no one had ever taught him how to smile like a _person_ before. “An hour … that’s good. Fast.”

 “Decently timed,” Cal said as the box of pamphlets were brought out, greyish green in color with black writing, and a big Eye like logo on the front of them. He pulled one out and handed it to Elias to see.

 Elias took it and read it, slowly, his lips moving as he did, then nodded as he closed it. “It’s good. A little long, maybe, but good.”

 “Too long? I’ve made one hundred copies…” Cal sighed, frowning as he looked into the box of neatly stacked papers, ready to be folded into pamphlets.

 “It’s okay, we can just cut them in half,” Elias suggested with a completely straight face and picked up the box. “I can carry this.”

 “In half,” Cal repeated, thanking the person behind the counter with a nod, and then followed Elias out. “The drug store is just down the way.”

 Elias nodded, and carried the box of papers proudly as they walked to the drug store, obviously looking to Cal for approval. “I used to live across from a drugstore, with my brother. He was … a little sad, sort of … you know, pathetic,” Elias said, as he puffed his chest out a little.

 “Thank you,” Cal said as he stayed close to Elias, and then pushed the drug store door open for him and found a cart. “Pathetic?”

 “Only had his books, his nose was always in them, worried too much, thought too much,” Elias said as he carried the box through the store, following Cal as they spoke. “All of his girlfriends kept leaving him for me. I wouldn’t date _them_ , but it was pretty obvious. He couldn’t make children, I could. They could tell.”

 “Is that right? They just wanted someone to give them children? They didn’t want you for you?” Cal asked, especially fond, as he made his way to the personal hygiene aisle.

 “Pretty sad, isn’t it? Women. That’s how they all are. They just want the biggest bull in the yard,” Elias said, loudly, making an elderly woman glare daggers at him as they passed. “See?” he whispered to Cal with a less-than-sly nod at her staring at him. “They can _tell_.”

 Cal raised just a contemplative brow at Elias as they walked, searching the aisles. He put in a pack of razors and cream in the basket. “And you’ve never taken any of them up on wanting… the biggest bull?”

 “Who wants a woman like that?” Elias scoffed as he looked through a rack of socks, and tossed four pairs in the basket of the cart. “No. I told them all no. I’m not going to take just anyone,” he said, chest out again, jaw set, stubbornly. “I have _standards_. I’m not going to take my short, barren brother’s hand-me downs.”

 “I see,” Cal said, who was trying hard not to crack, not to smile and break character as they neared the condoms and lubricant. “So what do you want?”

 Elias hesitated, and a flush crept up his throat, then he chewed his lower lip as they looked at the lubricants, and fidgeted a little with his hands, self-consciously. “I’ve used all of these, they’re all good,” he said, not looking at them.

 Cal smiled, touching Elias’ chest, over the bite mark under his shirt. “ _All_ of them? You’re more experienced than me…” Cal stiffened a little at that and pulled his hand away, and then took the box from Elias. “You pick.”

 Elias flushed hard at the touch to his chest, then looked more serious at the change in Cal’s mood. He looked the bottles over and picked one, putting it into the cart. “That one warms up.”

 Cal just nodded, moving along, to the next aisle for a topical cream for bite wound on Elias chest. He picked one out and put it in the cart, having set the box of pamphlets over the top of it. “Anything else?”

 Elias thought about it, looking around, and shook his head. “This is good for now. Do you need painkillers or anything for your-” Elias just gestured at all of Cal at once.

 “No, I’m fine,” Cal said, pushing the cart to the front, and started to unload everything they had.

 Elias waved Cal away from the cart and insisted on unloading everything with great ceremony, as though he were moving a stack of heavy timber for Cal, not lightweight groceries. “No. I’ve got it…”

 Cal didn’t protest, and moved the box off the cart, holding it in his arms. “The cash is in my pocket.”

 “Your pocket?” Elias asked, his brown eyes moving down to Cal’s jeans pocket, which made him shift his shoulders like a bull at the sight of a red, waving flag.

 “Yes, my pocket. My hands are full, would you…?” Cal insisted, no room on the counter for the box.

 Elias stared for a moment, then stepped closer, and bit his own lower lip while he slid his hand into Cal’s back pocket, breathing harder as he discovered it was the wrong one, and then groped Cal’s other ass cheek with his other hand. “There it is, you were hiding it-” he smirked, and took his time working the wallet out, slowly, while people stared.  
  
Then, Elias dropped it on the linoleum floor behind Cal and apologized while he collected it, red in the face, breathing a little harder. “I think I … need a minute…”

 “Elias?” Cal asked quietly, flushed a bit as he tried to duck his head from the view of people. “Are you alright?”

 “Yes, yes, I’m fine … just … need to … um-” he said, looking around for a place to duck behind, worked up.   
  
The cashier cleared her throat, and announced the total to Cal, looking at Elias like he was a mutt in the store, who was not really housebroken and starting to raise his leg against displays. “Cash or debit, sir?”

 “Cash,” Cal said, apologetically, and set the box on the ground and scooped up his wallet. He laid out the money for the cashier.

 Elias very quickly picked up the box, and insisted on taking the groceries, too, almost snatching them from the cashier as Cal paid. “I’ve got everything, Cal!”

 Cal thanked the cashier, took his change, and stuffed it into his pocket as he followed Elias out, catching up to him with a hand to his back. He leaned in close to whisper into his ear. “Are you trying to blow our cover? It’s all I could do to keep myself together…”

 “They didn’t see Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham, they saw a _crazy_ man and his handler,” Hannibal whispered back before snapping back into character, effortlessly, almost dropping the bag, but recovering it with very little grace, and much unnecessary movement.

 “That’s true,” Cal said, “Do you want to drop that off and then try to find a clothing store?”

 “I suppose we should, if you dare to take Elias into a clothing store,” Hannibal whispered, with a little smirk.

 “You wanted more clothes…” Will whispered, heading back to the hotel to drop off their things quickly. He opened the door and as they passed through he laid a folded pamphlet down on the counter.

 Elias nodded at the lady at the front counter. “You should read that,” he said as they passed, and said loudly to Cal, in a poorly hushed whisper,  “she looks like she needs to be saved from a wicked life.”

 “We’re here to enlighten people,” Cal said, loud enough to be heard as they got into the elevator, and he punched the number for their floor.

 They got in the elevator, again, and headed up to their floor, Elias still carrying everything for Cal, proudly. “I think I need a suit.”

 “A suit?” Cal asked, stepping off the lift once it landed, and held it for Elias, before heading for their room. “A suit for what?”

 “For looking good,” Elias said, like that was obvious. “People are more likely to join if I look good.”

 Brows raised, Cal looked back at Elias and then unlocked their room door and pushed the door open, holding it for the other man. “The movement isn’t based on how we look.”

 “No, but it can’t hurt to get their attention with a little … you know, _beefcake_ ,” he said with a straight face and put everything down on the bed.

 “Beefcake?” Will asked, the door closed now, he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

 Hannibal smirked back at Will, over his shoulder and gestured to himself with a teasing sparkle in his eyes, “Beefcake.” 

“You are ridiculous,” Will insisted and put the things from the bag into the packs, leaving out the lube and cream for later. He folded a few pamphlets and tucked them into his jacket pocket.

 Hannibal took the moment to cup Will’s face in his hands, and kissed him smoothly, holding it for a long moment before he pulled away. “I like to see you laugh.”

 “Your performance is for my benefit then?” Will whispered, not letting Hannibal stray far, holding him close by the hips.

 “Yes, in part,” Hannibal whispered back, thumbing the hard line of Will’s jaw. “A large part, if I am honest. I love watching you struggle to keep your composure.”

 “You’re an ass,” Will said with a grin, and kissed Hannibal quickly, before stepping away. “Alright, let’s find that department store.”

 “You’ve known precisely what I am for some time, now,” Hannibal said, and followed Will, stealing another kiss from the side of his throat.

 “And yet here I am,” Will teased, opening the door where they’d slip back into character and out into the real world once more.

 Hannibal let his hand touch Will’s back for the last second before they became Cal and Elias, again. “I can get a suit, right? Two suits.”

 “One,” Cal said, with smile. “I don’t have enough funds for two.”

 “One,” Elias agreed, reluctantly, and held the elevator door for Cal. “I’ll have to make it look really good, then,” he said, admiring himself in the mirror.

 “You’ll do fine,” Cal insisted as he got into the lift, hands on his thighs, timid.

 “You … think so?” Elias asked over his shoulder, and licked his lips, dark eyes seeking Cal’s approval, despite his bravado.

 “I do. You’re more than capable. The Light will guide you, Elias,” Cal said, touching his arm in reassurance.

 “The Light? The Light’s going to make me look good in a suit. I don’t need the Light for that,” he huffed, and opened a button, showing Cal his chest hair as the doors opened to the lobby.

 “The Light will guide you, that’s all I’m saying,” Cal said, trying not to peek at Elias’ chest, and ducked his head as he got out.

 Elias followed Cal out with as much swagger as possible, and moved his shoulder so that his shirt gaped open a little just within Cal’s view. “So, where are we going?” he asked, casually.

 “I think there is a strip mall down the way, still open,” Cal said, looking over at Elias, and then at his eyes once before watching the sidewalk where they walked.

 “Good, we’ll find something for both of us there,” Elias said, and watched Cal, focused only on him, not where he was going.

 Again, they crossed the street and Cal made sure to guide Elias over and then into the small strip mall, lots of people around still, but hardly anyone paying them any mind. “We will.”

 Elias pushed his way into a store, and looked around as they walked in. “Seems pretty plain,” he sighed, but looked at a purple shirt, checking the price tag.

 Cal looked at a few shirts, and pants, picking out a few things in his size, very modest, and very… plain. “Nothing wrong with plain, Elias.”

 “Not for you, you’re …” he looked Cal up and down, a little speechless as he gestured, “you know.”

 “I’m what?” Cal asked, a pointed stare over at his friend, could be, would be, lover.

 Elias licked his lips, and gestured again, “Not plain. Putting you in plain is like wrapping up a firecracker in a paper bag, it’s going to-” he gestured to the sky for explosion and color overhead. “Like that.”

 “So plain is okay because I don’t need nicer, brighter things?” Cal asked, as he folded the clothes over one arm, looking at the clothes Elias was looking for himself. “What have you picked out?”

 “Yeah, because you’re … “ Elias licked his lips and started to breathe a little faster again, then looked at the clothes on the racks, and picked out a few things, haphazardly, like they were in a race of some kind to finish first.

 “Something tan would be nice on you, or white,” Cal suggested, “Might bring out your natural skin tone.”

 Elias looked down at his arms, like he’d never considered his skin tone. “On me?” he asked, and hurried toward the suits, then pulled out a white suit, looking at it before he held it up to him for Cal to look at.

 “I like that,” Cal said, honestly. “I could never pull off white like that.”

 Elias immediately seemed to puff up with pride, and smiled at Cal, flushed with pleasure at the praise. “I’ll get all white.”

 “Even beige might be okay, an off white,” Cal offered, pulling out another suit. “Less dirty to try and clean off.”

 Elias hesitated, as though afraid to deviate from the colour Cal liked so much, but picked up the beige suit and held it up, posing a little.

 “I like that, too.” Cal sighed. “I… you can get both.”

 “Both?” Elias asked, with a new light in his eyes, surprised.

 “Yeah,” Cal said, aware they were a going to be shorter on cash now, but they’d figure out something. “Get both.”

 Elias’s eyes went wet with emotion, and he walked toward Cal, then bent down and wrapped him in a warm, tender hug with his head on Cal’s shoulder.

 Cal raised his hands a little and then patted Elias’ shoulder, giving the man who looked at them a nod. “You’re welcome. Are we done here?”

 “No one’s _ever_ bought me two suits before,” Elias said, and sniffled, noisily, still hugging Cal.

 “They are well deserved. Let’s go pay for them, Elias,” Cal said, gently, touching Elias’ hair softly.

 Elias kissed Cal’s forehead, and wiped his eyes, then nodded, and sniffled again before they walked toward the cashier. “Okay, okay…”

 Cal set his things down and then  looked Elias. “We’ll need two garment bags for the suits,” he said to the cashier, who got  few out to put the suits in, and then started to ring them up, taking off the security devices. Once it was all rung up and their clothes bagged, Cal handed money over and they were on their way again.

Elias loaded everything into his arms again, awkwardly, refusing to let Cal take a single thing, and shuffled toward the entrance, then looked back for Cal, as though anxious to make sure he was following.

 Right behind Elias, Cal walked out and made sure the door shut behind them. “Did you want to continue to look around or go back?” The strip mall had a few shops, not much they needed.

 “Back to the hotel,” Elias said, craning his head back to talk to Cal as he spoke. “Shopping is hard. I’m tired.”

 “Alright. Hotel, leftovers, and…” Cal let the rest hang there, knowingly, as they walked back to the hotel.

 Elias turned around completely and walked backward as he looked at Cal. “And …” he smiled.

Cal stepped in front of Elias and opened the door for him into the lobby. “Watch your step.”

 “I’d rather watch you,” Elias said with a chuckle, and walked into the lobby, still looking back at Cal with a lovestruck gaze, his arms full of bags.

 Cal flushed at the comment, clearly heard by everyone as they walked in, but didn’t seem to mind too much. “I’m not that interesting.” He pressed the button for the elevator.

 “Is that what you really think? Everyone stares at you when we’re out. They’re jealous of me,” Elias said, proudly.

 “Jealous you have me?” Cal asked, slipping into the lift, holding the doors for Elias and then let them shut.

 Elias followed Cal in, and stood close to him, their faces almost touching, “I think it kills everyone who sees us. I have you, and they don’t. They never will,” he said, proudly.

 “Never?” Cal asked, with a smile, gazing up at Elias as they stood toe-to-toe.

 “Anyone who tried would fail,” Elias said, confidently, but held onto Cal’s waist with a firm grip.

 “Nothing to worry about there,” Cal said quietly, just between them, taking some of the bags from Elias as the other man held onto him, as if he were a possession Elias didn’t want to part with.

 Elias closed his eyes, and rested his forehead against Cal’s, just breathing for a second as his heart beat faster. “Do you promise?” he asked in a soft, small voice as the elevator came to a stop.

 “As… as long as you’re good to me,” Cal whispered, eyes lifting to meet Elias’.

 “I’ll always be good to you,” Elias whispered back, eyes wet again. The elevator door opened, on their floor.

 Cal let go of a ragged breath and then moved past Elias to step out, leading them to their room once more, ready to stay in for the night. He unlocked the door and tossed their things on the bed, Elias’ suits in the closet.

 Elias stepped through the door, and the moment the door was closed again, Hannibal let out a deep sigh and pulled the wig off. “We may look insane, but we do not look like a pair of killers.”

 “We don’t,” Will said, with a smile, emptying his pockets once more, shoes off by the door, and then stepped in closer to Hannibal.

 Hannibal pulled the false nose off in front of the mirror, and rubbed the rest of the makeup off with a towel, then looked at Will with a smile in his eyes. “Those suits are going to look terrible,” he chuckled.

 “Elias will be...strangely charming,” Will said, touching Hannibal’s waist. “Not that Cal’s clothes are much better.”

 “Cal’s clothes are his armor against the world, tightly buttoned against eyes on his flesh,” Hannibal murmured, and turned to face Will. “They make a strange couple.”

 “They do,” Will agreed, undoing the buttons of his own shirt and letting his hang open, and sat on the bed.  
  
Hannibal undid his shirt as he walked closer to Will, and guided Will’s open shirt off of his shoulders with both hands as he kissed him. “Stranger than us?”

 “A little,” Will whispered, grasping Hannibal’s hips, and then spread his hands up and over his chest slowly as their mouths meshed together perfectly.

 Hannibal straddled Will, knees sinking into the bed on either side of Will’s hips as he kissed him, deeply. His arms wrapped around Will’s shoulders, and he spread his hands over Will’s back, eager for the smooth feeling of Will’s skin.

 Pushing Hannibal’s shirt off his shoulders, Will smoothed his hands down Hannibal’s arms, eager to touch every part of him again now that they were alone. “Couldn’t wait to get back here with you…”

 “Nor I with you,” Hannibal whispered, and tossed his shirt backward, then moved forward to pin Will to the bed with his weight, and another kiss to Will’s lips. 

 Will let out a groan as he was hit the mattress, lips never parting from Hannibal’s. He was nervous and yet excited all at once to  strip down completely again together, to touch, and feel, to close in the most intimate way possible. Will longed more than he ever thought he was able to.

 Freed of his homely disguise, Hannibal’s straight hair brushed Will’s forehead as he kissed him and let both hands roam down Will’s sides to his belt, which he undid, and let hang open between them. “Nervous?” he whispered, undoing Will’s fly.

 “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t,” Will murmured back, but lifted his hips for his pants to be stripped off his body.

 “The second you say no, we’ll go back a step,” Hannibal promised as he eased Will’s pants off of his thighs.

 Will nodded, having never done this before it was the sort of reassurance he needed, since Hannibal seemed so well versed in the subject at hand. “Okay…” Will whispered, carding a hand through Hannibal’s hair, pulling him in for another long, languid kiss.

 Hannibal kissed Will slowly, and undid his own pants, easing them off and down his thighs before he kicked them to the floor. Will gripped Hannibal’s naked backside, palming down the muscular planes with a hum.

 “We’ll take our time,” Hannibal promised, and kissed Will’s neck slowly, then sucked at his earlobes.

 Will lifted his hips, wrapping long, runners legs around Hannibal’s hips, pulling him in, closer. “We do.”

 Hannibal nodded, and ran his hands under Will’s ass, palming it, and squeezed the muscle as he ground downward against him, slowly. Will arched into the sensation, feeling the hard ridge of Hannibal’s cock against his cleft. He reached over his head for the bottle of lube there, breaking the seal on it with his teeth.

 Hannibal watched Will tear the bottle open with his teeth and kissed the bite mark on his chest. “Those teeth of yours…”

 “They’re good for a few things,” Will remarked, quietly, voice low with lust as he handed the now opened lube to Hannibal, meeting his eyes once again.

 “So I have discovered,” Hannibal purred, and took the lube then used it to slick his fingers. He dragged his wet fingers over Will’s cleft, and then teased his entrance, gently.

 Will’s jaw dropped a little as his breathing deepened at the touch, unclenching his legs around Hannibal, he spread them instead, eyes on the doctor above him, lust blown dark and sultry.

 “Slick and warm,” Hannibal whispered as he stared back at Will, and applied even more lube to his fingers to make easing them inside Will seamless.

 Just as ‘Elias’ had promised, the lube warmed on Hannibal’s fingertips. It was much nicer like this than the rough glide of just spit alone. “Do it.”

 Hannibal slid his fingers in, two of them at once, watching Will’s expression as he did.

 Will gasped, arching up just a little, a welcomed and familiar sensation, but _better_ as Hannibal’s long, slender fingers slipped into him.

 Hannibal loved the tremble of Will’s lower lip as he arched, and let him grow accustomed to the girth of his fingers before starting to pump them inside, slowly. “Better?” 

“Y-yes,” Will managed, his eyes never leaving Hannibal’s face, never breaking the contact that he once loathed, but now could not stand to be without. 

Hannibal kissed Will’s mouth, harder, claiming it as his slick fingertips brushed against Will’s prostate, in a feathery touch. Will writhed with it, panting against Hannibal’s mouth as he bit at his lips, kissing him until he tasted copper, a groan of pleasure slipping past his lips.

Will’s teeth piercing his lips made Hannibal start to pump his fingers a little harder inside him as the taste of his blood swirled in their mouths. He started to scissor his fingers gently, working Will’s eager body open wider with every curl of them.

“That’s…” Will groaned, unable to stop the way he moved down against Hannibal’s fingers, wanting more and more, built up and anything less felt like it might just break him. 

“Will-” Hannibal moaned, his cock throbbing at the sight and feeling of Will grinding himself down against his fingers. “More?” he asked, breathlessly, smearing blood against Will’s lips, his own heart beating in his ears.

 “Yes, more,” Will agreed, half delirious with pleasure,  pulling Hannibal down for a harder, deeper kiss, breathlessly.

 Hannibal kissed Will again, their tongues brushing, and twisting together like snakes as he pulled his fingers out of Will, slowly, and spread lubricant over his cock. Very, very slowly, he rubbed himself against Will’s entrance with a low, shaky groan, giving Will time to change his mind if he wanted to.

 Holding Hannibal’s gaze, Will shifted his hips up just a little, nodding his head, wanting to finally bind them as whole, as one, together. “Hannibal…” he breathed, clutching his biceps.

 Hannibal shifted his hips, and touched Will’s cheek with one hand as he pressed himself inside, his eyes going soft and dark at the sensation of his cock breaching Will, slowly. “Will-”

 Once Hannibal got past the first ring of muscle, Will relaxed, gasping against his mouth as he breathed, unaware he had held his breath at all. “There,” he managed wrapping his legs around Hannibal’s lean hips, taking him in further.

 Hannibal’s eyes closed, and their foreheads touched as their bodies locked together, finally. He wrapped both arms around Will’s shoulders, hands shaking hard, and pressed his cock all the way inside Will, then rested there, letting them both enjoy it. “There…” Hannibal whispered, his voice unsteady and full of emotion.

 Cupping Hannibal’s face, Will kissed him slowly, preserving the moment in his memory palace. “I love you,” he breathed, voice wavering.

 Hannibal felt his eyes tear over, and kissed Will again before he looked down at him, breathing hard. He’d never felt more alive, not even in the midst of a bloodbath. “I love you,” he murmured, and began to move inside Will, very, very slowly.

 This even passed slaying the dragon together, in Will’s mind, just as intimate, if not more so. He breathed slowly, with Hannibal’s movements, growing used to him quickly, lips against his. “Harder…”

 Hannibal reached down and hitched one of Will’s legs up a little further, then pressed himself deep inside Will with a snap of his hips, gasping at the feeling of it. “Yes?”

 The pulse of heat from that, the tapping of his prostate, made Will writhe hard against the bed, grasping the sheets under him for purchase. “Yes…”

 Hannibal had been with countless men, in his past, but it had never felt like this, with a man or a woman. It had never felt this immediate and intimate. He moved both hands to Will’s hips, and rose up on his knees to build a slow, steady rhythm with his hips. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, watching Will writhe against the bed.

 One hand clenched into the covers, the other came up to grasp Hannibal’s shoulder, leveraging himself. Will’s skin flushed hot with heat and pleasure as it built in his core, sure that he was able to feel Hannibal’s heart beat right with his own. 

 Hannibal guided Will’s legs to his chest, slowly, gently, and started to thrust harder as he watched Will’s perfect face, his own eyes going dark and wet with emotion as he felt Will throb around him.

 Will’s head lolled back against the bed as the change of position sent a shock of pleasure down his spine, spreading out through his lower back and thighs, a louder moan along with it. “Hannibal, oh-”

 The sounds of his name, like that, from Will made Hannibal’s cock throb and he closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to last longer as he snapped his hips, thrusting deeper inside Will, faster, both arms around Will’s legs as he guided them to his shoulders, now. 

 Toes clenched in the air as Will was moved yet again, every last fiber in his body on fire, like it was going to melt his skin right off. Will started to see hot white behind his eyes as they closed with the way Hannibal took him, deep and hard, a constantly prod to his prostate that sent heat unfurling through him, opening his eyes once more. “I-”

 Hannibal nodded, close himself. “Come,” he said, staring into Will’s eyes as he felt fire begin to spread through his lower back, down into his balls, gripping his body and blanking his vision white as he came inside Will, shaking. 

 “Hannibal-!” Will managed one more time before his body gripped Hannibal’s cock like a vice, throbbing as he gasped, fingers clenched harder into the covers, white knuckled. He spilled over his own chest and stomach, body tense and then loose and languid all at once.

 Hannibal released Will’s legs, gently, then laid over him, shaking arms around Will, tightly. He tucked his face against Will’s throat, tears streaming down his cheeks as he caught his breath from the crest of passion moments before.

 Will held his arms around Hannibal’s tightly, nuzzling against his head, reveling in the afterglow of what he was sure was the best sex he’d ever had thus far. He kissed Hannibal’s ear, catching his breath.

 Hannibal finally lifted his head after what seemed like hours, and kissed Will’s lips, still utterly speechless, and shaking, finely, surgeon’s hands overwhelmed by the experience.

Will carded a hand through Hannibal’s hair, kissing hims with long sweeps of this tongue, slowly, savoring every moment there together, shared and conjoined.


	7. Chapter 7

Hours later, long after Will fell asleep, Hannibal pulled himself out of bed, quietly, and looked down at Will where he lay before writing on the cheap hotel stationery in his elegant hand: _I’ve gone out to get something, stay here. I will return before morning._

He dressed, in the darkest clothing he had, and disguised himself before leaving with the room key. Out to the SUV, and then out of the city, Hannibal drove with single-minded focus. 

The road sign outside of Molly’s parents’ home on the news clip they’d seen was an obvious clue. All it had taken was a cursory search, and Hannibal had found that Molly’s family home was less than an hour from the city. He felt the need to make things _right_. 

Upon reaching the large house with the fenced yard, Hannibal watched the dark house for a moment, and removed his disguise. He wanted to be recognized, for this. It was important. Hannibal’s breath hung in the air in white clouds in the cold as he approached the yard, with deadly stealth, and listened at the gate for a moment before opening it with a gloved hand. He needed to leave no trace of himself, none at all. Even so, this was an enormous risk, but one that he felt fiercely compelled to take. 

The gate opened with a soft click, and the dogs that were sleeping outside looked up at Hannibal. He tossed a piece of beef jerky, then another, and whistled softly. Buster jumped up and ran over, sniffing at the jerky, then wagged and gobbled it down. Without Buster’s alarm, the other dogs, his followers, did not dare begin to bark. “Buster…” Hannibal whispered, and pulled Will’s folded sock from his jacket pocket, then offered it for them to smell. Buster sniffed the air and hurried to the sock, wagging ferociously at the fresh and familiar smell. 

“Winston…” Hannibal whispered, and beckoned the skeptical, careful larger dog to him. Winston approached slowly, ignoring the jerky that the dogs ate up, but began to wag and dance from foot to foot with happiness when he smelled Will’s sock. “Good, good boys,” Hannibal murmured and pet them both, then stood and led them to the SUV with the sock as a lead. He tossed the rest of the jerky in the yard to keep the others occupied, and all it took was the opening of a door for the dogs to leap into the SUV. His mission accomplished, Hannibal sped off, into the night. It looked as though the gate had simply been pawed ajar, and Buster and Winston had slipped out at night. An hour later, Hannibal shook Will awake. “Will, we must leave.”

Thoroughly tired and exhausted from the last few days, Will hadn’t even noticed, not until Hannibal returned, shaking him, and something wasn’t right, something was different, Hannibal’s side of the bed cold. He gingerly woke, blinking big blue eyes up at Hannibal, forehead wrinkled.

“What time is it?” he asked, getting out of the bed and finding his clothes, slower than he’d like to be, sore all over.

“Two-fifty-six,” Hannibal informed Will crisply, and packed all their things into their bag. “I’ve done something, it’s best we go,” he said, flatly, and made certain his disguise was in place before taking a wet cloth to wipe every surface he remembered either of them touching to destroy their fingerprints.

“What?” Will asked, blinking as he buttoned up his shirt and pants, and then started to pack everything into their bags. “What did you do?”

“You’ll see in the vehicle,” Hannibal explained, not looking at Will as he cleaned, then looked around, and stood near the door, their bag over his shoulder.

Will had the other bag and Hannibal’s suits slung over his shoulder, the box of pamphlets under another arm, and followed him out. “Leave the key at the desk,” he murmured, groggy, and walked to the elevator.

Hannibal nodded, and wiped the doorknob clean before shoving the washcloth in his coat pocket and walked with Will to the elevator, smiling to himself, just a little. It was difficult to surprise Will, of all people. “The clerk is asleep, with luck, he will still be asleep when we pass.” The less witnesses, the better.

“Then just toss it in the mail box,” Will suggested, getting into the elevator.

The elevator doors closed, and Hannibal looked at Will, a little amused. “I’m sorry that I had to wake you. I’ll drive, you can sleep.”

“You’ve been up all night,” Will muttered, stifling a yawn.

The doors opened to reveal the small lobby. The clerk was, indeed, still asleep in his chair, and Hannibal wiped his prints off of the key with his shirt sleeves, then dropped the key on the desk, quietly, on their way out.

The SUV waited nearby, the engine running. Winston started to bark when he saw Will, and Buster began to jump up to see, bouncing in the passenger seat, both of them absolutely ecstatic to see their long-lost human again. 

“I only took the two of them. As it happens, Molly’s parents live under an hour from here. They were sleeping outdoors,” Hannibal said, as he watched Will’s reaction, and took the suit bags from him so that he could greet the dogs.

Will’s heart raced when he saw the two dogs, not hearing any other part, not wanting to, and opened the door to get into the car with the dogs, gathering them both up in his arms, however awkward. “You got me my dogs…”

Hannibal smiled to himself as Will hugged his dogs, and was promptly covered in sloppy dog kisses all over his face and neck. Both dogs were trembling with excitement, whining and unable to keep still as they greeted Will. Hannibal put their things in the back of the SUV, closed, it, and climbed into the driver’s side. He put a hand on Will’s shoulder, rubbing it softly. “They are your family.”

Buckling in, Will hugged the dogs to him, tightly, letting them lick and nuzzle all they wanted, it had been months since he’d seen them, let alone know if they were okay or not. “ _Our_ family.”

“Our family,” Hannibal agreed, and began to drive them out of the parking lot, toward the freeway as Will snuggled the dogs. “We’ll stop and get supplies in the next city, they’ve had some jerky.”

“Okay,” Will said, a little teary, which the dogs licked off immediately. “Heading west again or keep going south?”

“South, I think. Once we reach Florida, we’ll find a boat,” Hannibal mused, and looked over at Will, only to receive a face kiss from Winston before Winston climbed into the back seat so that Buster could lay on Will’s lap.

Will laughed at that, and nodded, hands resting on Buster where he lay over his thighs. “Good idea. Not sure we’ll have enough in cash for a boat.”

“As I said before, Will, I have money in untraceable accounts,” Hannibal assured Will, and wiped his face, but reached back to pet Winston where he sat. Winston positioned himself so that his front paws and torso laid on the console that divided the seats, looking out of the windshield.

Another nod from Will and he let his frets go, petting Buster as if it were a way to help calm them. “Alright. I trust you.”

Buster rolled over in Will’s lap for belly scratches, and Hannibal chuckled at that, then looked at Will. “I didn’t kill anyone, you know.”

“Must be so hard on you not having shed any blood but our own,” Will mused, quietly, scritching up Buster’s belly.

Hannibal shot Will a look for that, then looked at Buster as he grunted and stretched under his favourite person’s hand, completely happy. “I think you know what I mean.”

“I do,” Will said, knowingly, giving Hannibal a charmed look, a wisp of a smile there. “You’ve been very good at controlling yourself. It’ll get us out of the States easier.”

Hannibal had strongly considered it, killing Molly for taking his place. Perhaps he could have made her into a casserole, and they could have eaten her, together. However, that would have been as good as a massive spotlight on them, for the FBI’s benefit. A future with Will was worth more than the momentary pleasure of cooking her. 

“The dogs were left to sleep outdoors, it was cold enough that I could see my breath.”

Will frowned, holding Buster a little tighter. “All of them?”

 

“Yes. All of them,” Hannibal nodded, and looked back at the dogs. 

Will’s brows furrowed at that, huffing a bit. He leaned to plug the phone into the cigarette lighter once more, charging it up. “I don’t know why she would do that…”

“She does not think of them as family,” Hannibal pointed out, and chuckled when Winston put his.head on Hannibal’s arm while he drove. “I have no more jerky, Winston.”

“Maybe he just likes you,” Will pointed out, though he was still storming inside about Molly and the dogs.

“He knows I brought him back to you,” Hannibal said, and turned onto the highway headed south. “They will need new names as well.”

“I can’t just change their identities,” Will sighed, knowing they’d never answer to them. “On the collars, maybe…”

“Encephalitis,” Hannibal suggested as he nodded to Buster, with a smirk glittering in his eyes.

“Very funny,” Will sighed, petting Buster behind his ears. “Do we call Winston Bronchitis?”

“Pneumocystis,” Hannibal laughed, and took a quick glance at the dogs. “What about Jack and Francis?”

“You don’t think that’s suspicious?” Will asked, brows raised toward Hannibal.

“Perhaps just a little. Do they have nicknames?” Hannibal asked as Winston leaned his head against Hannibal’s arm.

“Nicknames? Like Busty and Whinnie?” Will almost laughed at that, not sure if it was funny or just sad.

Hannibal looked at Will, eyebrows raised. “Do you call them that?”

“No,” Will assured, rolling his eyes.

“Thor and Zeus?” Hannibal suggested, after a moment’s contemplation. “Better yet, what would Cal name his dogs?”

“I don’t think Cal has dogs, not anymore anyway,” Will sighed, giving Buster a belly scratch. “He lives with a bunch of granola crunching hippie types… probably named after seasons or plants.”

Buster grunted and stretched, then started to fall asleep on Will’s lap as his blinking eyes began to move more and more slowly. “Jasper and Sunny.”

“Those are… surprisingly fitting, actually,” Will said, and pet ‘Jasper’ over his small belly.

“We’ll have new tags created when we stop to get food,” Hannibal said, with a little smile. Winston moved a little, then snored, asleep where he laid half draped over the console.

“Good idea. We’ll need to find a pet store for that,” Will mused, letting his head fall back against the seat, groggy, and now that the dogs were docile, so was he.

“Sleep. I’ll wake you when we’re in a major center,” Hannibal promised. Both dogs were snoring now.

Will let his head rest to the side, against his coat, and pet Buster until he was soothed into sleep once more, overtaken by exhaustion, plummeting him into vivid dreams of the rest of his dogs and fighting through the FBI.

Hannibal glanced over at Will as often as he could while he drove, and smiled at Buster’s remarkably loud snores. 

He drove through the night, without stopping, and finally reached over to touch Will’s arm when he had found a place to stop. “Will…”

“Hm?” the empath answered, waking up slowly, the sun was already reaching over the skyline. “Where are we?”

“Atlanta, Georgia,” Hannibal said as they entered the city. The sun had been up for hours, but Hannibal had let Will sleep as long as possible.

“Wow, we got a long ways,” Will said, rubbing his eyes, the dogs both in back, sleeping. “You must be tired.”

“Rather,” Hannibal agreed. His eyes were burning a little, but he was determined to get them to a pet store, and then a hotel. “According to the billboards, there is a shopping center ahead.”

“I’ll go in and get what we need if you want to rest,” Will offered, stretching out his long legs in the seat, running a hand over his scruffy that had started to grow in again.

“If you’re alright with heading in alone and carrying everything, I can wait here with the dogs … provided they don’t bark the entire time you are in the store,” Hannibal said, and signalled to turn off of the freeway.

“I can manage some dog food and bowls,” Will said, with a look. “I’m not the one with a serious injury still healing.”

“Very well, just be certain to bring leashes, most hotels that accept dogs require them, I believe,” Hannibal said. He found the enormous mall, and parked outside of it before looking the name up on their phone. “There is a pet store inside.”

“Okay,” Will said, waiting until they parked, and then told the dogs to stay. “I’ll be back, won’t be long.” He shifted back into one of the bags and pulled out money and then stuffed into his wallet. He kissed Hannibal’s cheek.

“We’ll wait,” Hannibal promised with a tired smile, ready to fall asleep in the driver’s seat, and close his aching eyes from driving all night and into part of the day.

Will nodded and got out. He didn't take long, dragging a bag of dog food over his shoulder, and a bag of everything else in his other hand. An hour tops, and no one looked at him twice. He opened the back and dropped the bags in, pilfering through the paper one for the new tags and leashes. He whistled for both dogs, who come bounding over the seats to him and he changed their tags out, and leashed them. Once done, he gave them each a hand full of kibble from his palm to tide them over. He went around to the driver's side door to open it and help Hannibal out.

“My turn to drive.”

Hannibal opened his eyes slowly and climbed out of the vehicle, then looked at Will and kissed his cheek. “Do the dogs need a chance to relieve themselves? I’d rather they did not go in the vehicle.”

Will sighed. “Yeah, I'll take them.” He hadn't been sure if Hannibal had stopped anywhere to let them go, but now that he knew, Will patted the seat to have them hop over and out, taking their leashes. “Back in a second.”

“I’ll come with you,” Hannibal said, and climbed out of the vehicle slowly, his stomach showing when he stretched.

Will smiled at that, and reached to tug Hannibal’s shirt over his stomach, fingers skimming his belly. “Okay,” he said, handing Winston’s leash to Hannibal.

Hannibal took Winston, who wagged and walked slowly, not pulling on the leash once while Buster jumped, endlessly, eager to reach the small stretch of grass outside the pet store. “You’ve given me the good child.”

“I have,” Will chuckled, one hand in his pocket while he wrangled Buster back a few, and gave him some slack once they reached the grassy mound.

Buster did his business immediately, and Hannibal walked Winston around the little grassy bit of land. “I’m sure we will be able to find somewhere in the city that can accommodate all of us.”

“Plenty of three star places take pets,” Will said, leaning down to with a plastic bag over his hand to picked up Buster’s mess and then tied off the bag to throw away in the nearest garbage.

Hannibal pulled a little face at that and waited as Winston peed against a post. He pulled out the phone and browsed. “Hm.”

“We still have to get out of the states before anything nicer appeals for us,” Will said, quietly.

“I suppose,” Hannibal sighed, dreaming of ironed sheets and a large, stone tub. “In that case, the Regent is out. It seems The Peachtree Inn is our best option.” 

Winston leaned against Hannibal’s leg, very affectionate since Hannibal had rescued them.

“Sounds very three star,” Will mused, and picked up Winston's mess as well.

“I’m sure it won’t disappoint,” Hannibal said and touched Will’s back in thanks. “Shall we make our way?”

Nodding, Will started back toward the SUV, dumping the two bags into the garbage along the way. He got the dogs into the car, and settled, and then into the driver’s seat he went, hand out for the keys.

Hannibal handed Will the keys and got in the passenger side with a yawn. “It’s not far, thankfully.”

“No?” Will started up the SUV, and pulled out and back onto the freeway. “How many exits?”

Hannibal looked at the map on his phone, blinking slowly. “Two, then take the exit on the right.”

Will stayed in the slow lane then, so he could get off easily, following behind an impossibly slow truck, but kept his calm, easing off the gas a little. It was midday but he was starved and hope the place had food. “Room service?”

“Yes, thankfully,” Hannibal sighed, both exhausted and hungry. Buster climbed into the front seat and laid on Will’s lap again, as he drove.

Will used one hand to pet Buster’s head, taking the exit as he came along, and turned off the freeway. There were signs for the hotel, so he followed them down the road, and around the corner. He pulled into the parking lot, up to the drive, this hotel didn’t have the luxury of inside hallways.

“Shall I go check us in?” Hannibal asked, hand out for their thinning envelope of cash.

“If you want,” Will said, hanging Hannibal the envelope. They’d need more money soon, but he’d worry about that later.

“I’ll be right back,” Hannibal promised, after checking his makeup and wig in the rear view mirror, then kissed Will’s jaw and went inside, as Elias. Ten minutes later, he came out with room keys, and climbed in. “Five twenty-six. Ground floor.”

“No climbing at least,” Will said, turning the SUV around and moved them to the parking space near their door, just two spaces down, luckily. Will parked, and turned the car off. He gathered the leashes and the dogs, and took up bags, leaving the box of pamphlets in the back for now.

Buster jumped down happily, and Winston followed Will as Hannibal collected everything else and went to the door to unlock it. A small room with one queen-sized bed lay beyond the door, just a little nicer than the last room. “I have never been so happy to see a three star hotel room.”

“They’ve all been three star,” Will said with a mirth in his eyes as he set their things down on the dresser, and flopped down on the bed, not tired in the least, but starved as his stomach protested. Hannibal removed his wig and nose, and then went to the bathroom to wash the makeup off with a face cloth, then returned to their bed to find Will, Buster, and Winston on it. “May I have a corner of the bed?” he asked Buster, who just rolled over.

Will laughed, getting up once more to fish around for the room service menu. He found one and came over to sit with Hannibal and look it over. “Welcome to dog ownership.”

Hannibal found a spot on the bed, and stretched out, then stopped in surprise when Winston laid his head against Hannibal’s stomach. He petted Winston, slowly, with one hand, and looked over at Will. “Is that the menu?”

Will handed it to him. “Yes. It doesn’t look like much.” Will shrugged, giving Winston a pet. “You’re his hero.”

“He clearly missed you,” Hannibal murmured, as he smoothed down Winston’s fur with one hand, and smiled a little. “He’s grateful.” Hannibal stole a look at the menu, with a sigh, longing for something a little less … bland.

Will couldn't help but feel the wave of annoyance at yet another less than stellar menu. “We try for once of those hotel with a small kitchen next stop,” Will offered, only then realizing he hadn't taken his pills in a while, and set the menu down to fish around in the bags for them.

“That would do nicely,” Hannibal said, and watched Will look for his pills. “When was your last dose?”

“I don't remember, the last hotel when we got there…” he'd only been on them a few days, but Will knew he needed more to stave off the infection.

“You definitely need your dose now,” Hannibal said, and rose to pour Will a cup of water.

“Yes, I know,” Will said, finally finding his pills, he popped one into his mouth and took the water to drink it down. “Thanks.”

“Let me know if you feel it get worse,” Hannibal sighed, and took the menu.

Will shrugged, and slumped down next to Hannibal to look over the menu one more time. “Been on the go so much I don’t even know.”

“Quite the same, it has been a blur,” Hannibal sighed, and turned toward Will, then set the menu on his chest. “Where do you think we should settle?”

“You wanted to get a boat to sail. Sail where? East? South?” Will shrugged broad shoulder, leaning toward him. “Anywhere no one knows us.”

“South, somewhere warm,” Hannibal mused. “Cuba would make the FBI’s task of apprehending us nearly impossible.”

“Cuba,” Will repeated,, head canted. “Why not. Is it true though no one owns property there? It's all government sanctioned?”

“I believe so. Taking up residence would be difficult, to say the least,” Hannibal admitted.

“But the best choice until the FBI give up,” Will suggested, with a sigh, taking the menu from Hannibal. “I’m going to order a BLT.”

“I’ll have …” Hannibal looked over the limited menu with a grim expression, “stuffed chicken breast.”

“Don’t sound too excited,” Will said, going to the phone to put in the order, talking quietly over it in the voice and tone he’d adapted for Cal.

Hannibal laid his head on Will’s shoulder. Only his hunger kept him from falling asleep right now. “Thank you.”

Will patted Hannibal’s face as he made the order and then set the phone down again. “Sleep, it’ll be thirty minutes.”

Hannibal smiled a little at Will, and moved closer. “When I can, I vow to feed you, properly.”

“I’m not dying of starvation,” Will said, opening his arm out if Hannibal wanted to come lay closer while he napped.

Hannibal laid against Will and closed his eyes. “You are becoming a little thinner.”

“Go to sleep,” Will said, arm around Hannibal’s shoulders, as he took up the cell phone to look over news articles, just to stay up to date.

Hannibal sighed, again, and closed his eyes, falling asleep against Will’s chest almost immediately, able to hear his heart.

Winston laid his head on Will’s knee, and Buster crowded into his lap, everyone warm and sleepy against the brunet’s side.

Half an hour in, Will managed out of the heap to get to the door, giving over the cash for the food, and then set everything down on the table, and ate his sandwich in silence, watching the dogs and Hannibal sleep in some weird picture of pure domestic bliss.

Hannibal slumped over and kept sleeping as Winston moved closer. Buster wriggled until he was laying on Hannibal’s stomach, one hind paw on Winston, all of them fast asleep, and one of them snoring, loudly. 

Not wanting to wake them, Will quietly took the razor into the bathroom to shave, shutting the door behind him so the three of them could sleep peacefully. Once he was done, he started to go through their things, rearranging bags and stuff, and putting everything together in need order, pills to the front so he didn’t forget again. 

On cleaning out things they didn’t need, Will found a random scrap of paper with a drawing on it that had to have been Hannibal’s work, and what he could only assume was him, asleep, in the cabin from a few nights ago. He set the paper on the desk near Hannibal, and then went out to the SUV to gather a few other pamphlets, and walked the hotel, to talk to people, and ‘spread the word’ about the Light while his strange friend slept.

While Cal was spreading the word, the cell phone in his pocket buzzed, an hour later, and he opened it up to look at it, see who it was, after all no one had the number, so it could only be one person. Hopefully. 

“Hello?”

“Where are you?” Hannibal asked, his voice still lower than usual from his nap, hair sticking up in the back. He was in a rare state of disarray, having woken to find that much more than thirty minutes had passed and Will was gone.

“Wandering the complex. I needed some air, give my legs a stretch. I’m on my way back,” Will said, already walking back to the hotel room. He slipped the key in and unlocked it, hanging up the phone. “Did you memorize the cellphone number?”

Hannibal hung up the hotel room phone, and smoothed his hair down. “You mean to say you haven’t?”

“I have, I’ve had it longer than you have,” Will said, tossing it down on the bed, bringing Hannibal his plate of food over, cold now. “Eat your food.”

Hannibal took the plate, and stretched his neck a little, then looked at the dogs who kept snoozing next to them, Buster still snoring. “Shocking that I could sleep through that noise.”

“You were tired,” Will said, hands in his pockets as he walked around the room, pacing, too much time idle.

“You’re restless,” Hannibal noted as he cut his chicken. It didn’t matter that it was cold, not being hot couldn’t make it any worse.

“A little,” Will said, going to the window to look out, no one was really around on this side, everyone was down in the lobby or out by the heated pool.

Hannibal raised one eyebrow, “if you had trunks, you could swim. Water is your element.”

“It might be a heated pool, but it’s still chilly out,” Will said, coming to sit in front of Hannibal, in a chair, legs spread. “Besides, no trunks.”

“And even at night, I’d take issue with you going without,” Hannibal purred.

“You don’t like the idea of me skinny dipping?” Will asked, brows furrowed in curiously, a light smirk lighting his eyes.

“Not without me,” Hannibal said and smirked back, “and certainly not where anyone else could see.”

“We could sneak in later tonight,” Will said with raised brows this time, head canted inquiringly. The idea was… thrilling. Breaking into places was something he did well, even if he used to hate the idea of it. It was after all how he started out in his career.

Hannibal smiled at the look in Will’s eyes. “Yes, we could, when it’s closed, and there’s no one around, no lights on…” he took another bite of his cold chicken, a little gleam in his eyes. 

“I’ve scoped the place out, no security cameras that matter. Wanted to know what we were getting into, but they don’t actually work, there to scare people,” Will explained, spreading his hands over his thighs.

Hannibal looked at Will’s thighs, his eyes following the path of Will’s fingers. “Then it’s a date.”

“I think it might be our first official date,” Will commented, biting his lip once.

“It is our first date … that you are aware of. We’ve had many dates, from my point of view. Our first was over breakfast, in Minnesota,” Hannibal said, with a soft smile.

“You’ve been keeping count since before I was interested?” Will chuckled, watching Hannibal closely.

“Yes,” Hannibal said with a little smile, and then finished his chicken, and set the plate aside. “We have been dating for a long time, Will,” he teased.

“Then we have inevitably been cheating on each other,” Will said with an amused tone, and moved to to place himself in Hannibal’s lap now that he wasn’t occupied.

“We have been terrible to one another, yes,” Hannibal agreed, and pulled Will into his lap, arms around his waist.

“At least we get to make up for his now,” Will sighed, resting his forehead against Hannibal’s.

“My feelings, exactly,” Hannibal whispered, and kissed Will’s lips with one hand against Will’s cheek.

Will leaned in, head canted slightly, and pressed their lips together solidly, arms around Hannibal’s shoulders. He needed a little distraction.

Hannibal kissed Will, deeply, and bit his lower lip, gently. “Shower?”

“Yeah,” Will said, sliding off Hannibal’s lap, he held his hand out to him to help him up, but found he was using it more to ground himself, a little lightheaded.

Hannibal pushed himself up to kiss Will again, and undid his tightly buttoned shirt, slowly as he walked them back, toward the bathroom.

Will groaned at the contact and undid Hannibal’s shirt as well, stripping them both down by the time they reached the bathroom, their lips never unlocking, not even when Will reached back to turn the water on.

Hannibal stepped in, and pulled Will under the spray with him, then pinned him against the wall as they kissed, hands running through Will’s short hair as their bodies pressed together.

“Hannibal,” Will murmured between their lips, groaning at the weight of Hannibal over him, pinning him, keeping him there, every inch of his body reacting to being so close and so nude.

Hannibal found the soap with one hand and used it to wash Will’s back, slowly, still kissing him under the spray. He let his lips brush their way to Will’s ear, nibbling at the sensitive, velvet lobe. “I adore your ears.”

Will let out a breathy chuckle at that, head canted and then nuzzling back in against Hannibal’s lips. “I’ve always hated them, tried to cover them.”

“I love them,” Hannibal whispered, as he kissed and bit at their delicate shells, “I always have,” he said. Hannibal’s hands rubbed their way down Will’s back, massaging the muscles there.

“Stealing glances at my ear?” Will asked, coyly, arms around Hannibal’s shoulders, keeping their slicked bodies close together.

“At everything,” Hannibal replied, and moved his lips down to Will’s throat. “I’m curious, what did you ever steal a glance at of mine?” Hannibal whispered, throatily, both hands massaging Will’s ass muscle under the spray.

“You were mostly always perfectly dressed, the only thing I could sneak a look at was your ass, and once or twice your collar bones,” Will murmured, hips pushed forward as Hannibal did that.

The slow arch of Will’s hips rubbed their groins together, which Hannibal emphasized by arching his own hips at the same time. “Did you enjoy them?”

“Yes,” Will confessed, huffing out a breath as lust and need sparked through him. 

One of Hannibal’s soapy hands moved to the front to grip Will’s cock. “What did you think? Tell me.”

“I thought about seeing you completely disrobed, hair messed up, everything you didn’t present yourself as. I thought about touching your ass and biting your collarbone, wondering what you might taste like,” Will admitted, quieter, as his breathe hitched at the grip.

“What I was like … raw,” Hannibal whispered, and started to stroke them together, slowly. He enjoyed the feeling of their pulses pressed together, and being able to stare into Will’s eyes as they felt the same thing.

“Yeah. Without your veneer and polish,” Will whispered, head lolled back on his neck a little as heat built through his core, a simmering boil.

“And does it live up to the fantasy?” Hannibal asked, as he squeezed them and stroked harder, his other hand squeezing Will’s ass, pressing them together.

“Very much,” Will groaned, and kissed Hannibal properly again, his mustache tickling, but he found he didn’t mind it one bit.

“Good-” Hannibal growled, and scratched Will’s ass with his nails, then slapped it, hard, the sensation sharp against Will’s wet skin.

“Better than any fantasy I had,” Will admitted in a hushed whisper, gasping as bit against Hannibal’s jaw.

“So are you,” Hannibal moaned, and slapped Will’s ass again, harder, tugging at their cocks at the same time, harder, getting rougher with Will under the hot spray.

Will leaned in a bit Hannibal’s collar bone hard, tasting him there as he rolled his hips into Hannibal’s well serving hand. “Harder-”

Again, Hannibal slapped Will’s ass twice with a flat palm, hard enough to bruise him this time as he ground against Will’s cock, frantically now. Will groaned with that louder, panting against Hannibal’s shoulder as he started to fall right over the pleasure edge, rutting his hips into the doctor’s hand.

“You love being spanked,” Hannibal whispered, and used his spanking hand to twist Will’s nipple, hard, then gave his face a gentle, teasing slap with a smirk.

“You know this,” Will moaned, hissing a little at the new sensation. “Couldn’t wait to have you do it again, honestly.”

“Would you ever ask me to do it? Nicely?” Hannibal asked, whispering as he slapped the other side of Will’s face, and kissed the stung flesh, then bit his throat.

Will was so close to edge, so ready to come and yet the sensations of the slaps were teetering him there. “What? Spank me nice?” Will quipped.

“Say please,” Hannibal ordered, his lips against Will’s ear as he palmed his ass again, stroking harder, squeezing near their bases for a moment before he resumed.

Will trembled, limbs shaking, with need. “Pl _ea_ se…”

Hannibal pulled Will closer, then pulled his hand back, and slapped Will’s ass, three times, harder than ever, punishingly as he stroked him.

Grasping Hannibal’s waist with his fingers, they clenched into his skin bitingly hard, leaving little crescent shapes as he huffed out panted breaths and took them both in hand this time, stroking hard and fast.

Hannibal kept spanking, firm, unrelenting strokes against Will’s pale, taut ass. He thrust into Will’s hand, breathing hard, starting to shake.

“Hannibal-” Will gasped, starting to come undone with each slap, spilling over his own fingers and knuckles with a shouting moan.

“Yes, yes, _yes_ ,” Hannibal groaned and joined Will, moaning, shaking, coming along with him. 

Will wrapped a long, muscular arm around Hannibal’s shoulders as he worked them to completion, and kissed him slowly, panting. “I will never get tired of you.”

Hannibal laid his head on Will’s shoulder, his heart pounding as they came down together. He raised it to kiss Will and stared at Will’s face, intoxicated by him. “Promise me…” Hannibal whispered, deeply afraid that someday, somehow, Will would walk away, again.

“I promise,” Will whispered, breathing hard, unable to bring it down fast enough. “I wouldn’t leave you… not again…”

Hannibal palmed the side of Will’s face, staring into his eyes. “I love you,” he whispered, breathlessly, and kissed Will’s lips again. “I always have. I always will.”

“I love you, too,” Will said, meaning every word of it. 

“I … need you,” Hannibal admitted, very softly.

“I’m here,” Will whispered, stroking Hannibal’s wet hair with one hand, breathing deeply.

Hannibal nuzzled Will, and kissed him breathlessly, then stared at him, up close. “I do not plan to let you go, Will.”

“I don’t plan to let you let me go,” Will whispered, leaning back against the shower wall, holding Hannibal to him.

Hannibal found the small bottle of shampoo, and worked some into Will’s hair, massaging his scalp with skilled fingertips. “I am not certain I would survive losing you, again.”

“Me either,” Will said, closing his eyes, suddenly very exhausted all over again. He leaned his head forward into Hannibal’s hand. “I don’t have much hair to wash.”

“In that case, it becomes greasy much more quickly,” Hannibal murmured, and worked what was left over into his own hair, then wrapped his arms around Will, holding him. “Shall we sleep?”

“Yeah, I feel wiped,” Wil said with a lazy grin, eyes half lidded. He turned the water off and grasped for the towels.

Hannibal pushed his rinsed out hair off of his face, then looked for conditioner, to no avail, and muttered under his breath in Lithuanian before he handed Will a towel. “Sleeping in a vehicle is not very restful.”

Will dried himself off, and set the towel back on the rack, to dry. “Need to be up later for our date,” Will said with a grin, and stepped out, slowly.

“I agree,” Hannibal chuckled, amused at how excited Will was for an illicit dip into a pool at night. The dogs were still on the bed, sleeping, and Buster raised his head to look at Hannibal and Will when they walked in, then went right back to sleep, snoring immediately. “How can something so small make so much noise?”

Will chuckled, slipping on his boxers, and then pushed Buster over to fall back onto the bed, over the sheets, suddenly too hot to want to curl up under them. “That’s a good question.”

Hannibal laid down with a sigh, under the blankets, still exhausted, and pulled Will close as the dogs rearranged themselves around Will, snuggling close to him. Will moved over and rested up against Hannibal, head against his shoulder as the exhaustion finally hit full force and he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore.

Hours later, Hannibal opened his eyes and looked at Will, woken by a feeling of concern for the heat next to him in bed. Will was sweating, and deeply flushed. “Will…”

Will was sweating all over, cover in a thin sheen of it, soaked through his boxers and onto the bed sheets below them. He only made a soft noise next to Hannibal.

“Will,” Hannibal said again, more firmly, and sat up beside him, quietly alarmed. “Will, wake up.”

“What… what time is it?” Will managed, one hand going over his eyes, wiping at them slowly, unable to bring himself to fully awake.

“Nine-thirty, at night. You have a fever,” Hannibal sighed, and got up to fetch a cold cloth from the bathroom, then laid it over Will’s forehead. “Are you in pain?”

Will had a dull ache that throbbed from tooth point where it was removed, to his jaw, up into his head. Barely able to even want to open his eyes, he nodded his head. “Little bit.”

Hannibal turned on the lamp at their bedside, and turned Will’s head toward it. “Open, please,” he said, softly, hands against Will’s jaw.

Will opened as wide as he could, wincing, half shut eyes watching Hannibal. Hannibal frowned when he saw precisely what he did not want to see in Will’s tooth socket: pus, and sure signs of severe inflammation. “The bacteria has overpowered the antibiotics due to its fluctuating levels in your blood stream. It’s become resistant, we’ll need something much stronger, and quickly.”

“Now?” Will asked, just wanting to slip right back into sleep.

“If we do not, this new, and more aggressive infection could spread to your bloodstream,” Hannibal said, and poured Will a big glass of cold water. “Drink, please.”

Will sat up the best he could and took the glass, hands shaking as he sipped the water, most of it dribbling down his chin.

“We need to take you to a hospital,” Hannibal said, grimly, and wiped Will’s chin, then set the glass down and got Will’s clothes, helping him dress.

“We can’t risk that,” Will murmured, but did nothing to stop Hannibal getting him dressed, sure that the man had done it enough in the past that it was hardly a task for him.

“We shall have to. The class of antibiotics you need is not readily available anywhere else, minor emergency clinics are now closed, and you will require irrigation of what is rapidly becoming another abscess before it spreads to your bone, which would require a lengthy hospital stay,” Hannibal informed WIll, expertly, and got dressed himself, quickly. 

Will staggered to his feet, breathing harder, head spinning, and started to pack everything up, as fast as he could manage. They might very well have to run after this, and they had to be ready.

“Sit down, Will,” Hannibal insisted, softly, and went to his side, shirtless, helping him sit down. It alarmed him how rapidly Will had deteriorated and he could only guess at the new strength of the now resistant strain of bacteria in Will’s wound. “I will do everything. Your only task is to drink this pitcher of water,” Hannibal said, calmly as Winston licked Will’s head, watching him with worry. Hannibal brought the pitcher of water to Will from where it had been on the table, and refilled his glass. “I will take the dogs out so that they may relieve themselves, we’ll pack, and go.”

Will sat there with the water, gulping it down, slowly, this time, not to spill, watching Hannibal as sweat dripped. He’d been feeling worse for wear before they got there, in the car, when he was asleep, but he was sure it was just travel fatigue.

Hannibal put his disguise on, quickly, then packed their bags, just in case, and put the dogs on leashes. Winston was reluctant to leave Will’s side, but Hannibal coaxed him into it. “We will be right back, Hannibal said, and took the dogs to the courtyard. 

Will nodded, and drank the water down, eyes closed.

Hannibal walked in and touched Will’s face with one hand. “We’re ready. The dogs are waiting in the vehicle,” he said, increasingly worried about Will’s state.

“We got everythin’?” Will asked, managing to look around, using Hannibal's arm to pull himself out of the bed.

“We’ve got everything, yes,” Hannibal said, and helped Will out of bed, and out the door toward the waiting SUV where the dogs wagged at them through the window.

“Good, okay, do ya need me to drive?” Will asked, half delusional as he was dragged to the vehicle.

“I’d much rather you rested, Will,” Hannibal murmured and helped Will into the passenger's side. 

Will buckled in, nodding his head as his eyes closed and he rested there with his arms folded over his broad chest. “Okay. Wake me when we get there.”

“Of course,” Hannibal sighed with a look at Will, and drove off, toward the nearest hospital. It didn’t take too long, but Will was already sound asleep when Hannibal parked. He got out, fed the dogs in the back seat, left them some water in a bowl, and woke Will. “We are here.”

Will woke very slowly, sluggishly, and reached out for Hannibal’s shoulder as he slipped off the belt and out of the car. “Where are we?”

“The nearest Emergency Room,” Hannibal said, as he helped Will out, and wrapped an arm around his waist after closing and locking the doors. “How are you feeling?”

“Hot, it’s too hot,” Will groaned, undoing a few of the buttons of his shirt, unable to breathe, or so he thought.

“That is your fever, Will, we’ll fix that, soon enough,” Hannibal promised as they walked into the ER. Thankfully, it seemed quiet, and the nurse at the desk looked up at them, eyebrows raised at Will. “Alright, well, have a seat. I can guess you have a fever?” she asked, as she put a blood pressure cuff on Will’s arm. “What’s your name?”

“Uhm…” Will’s eyes blurred and he looked at Hannibal, drawing a blank. He knew he was supposed to keep up some sort of appearance…. “C… Cal Roberts?”

“Cal,” the nurse repeated as she took note of his name, “okay, Cal. Can you tell me how you’re feeling?” the nurse asked, and made note of Cal’s blood pressure as his strange looking friend hovered behind him in the background, looking anxious. 

“Terrible. I’m too hot, there’s an ache in my jaw, there’s… i had a tooth pulled, it’s not healing,” Cal said, trying to keep his jumbled mind less messy.

“Okay, are you on any antibiotics for that?” she asked, while clipping an oximeter to Cal’s finger. Elias produced a bottle. “These. He hasn’t been regular about them, and now he’s burning up. It happened all of a sudden, his heart is going fast, he’s sweating all over, he’s usually so healthy,” Elias fretted, and the nurse listened, then wrote down the information with a nod. “Okay, sounds like maybe you need something stronger. How is your breathing, Cal?” she asked, and pulled out a new clipboard to take his insurance information.

“Irregular? I don’t know,” Cal said, trying to sound nice about it, but he felt like he had when he had the fevers years ago. “I’m breathing fine now, it’s fine I guess.”

“Okay, I’ll get you to fill out this form, and we’ll get you in a bed so a doctor can take a look, alright?” she said, holding the form and pen out to Cal, which Elias took, abruptly, then dropped the pen and picked it up, filling it out quickly as the nurse looked at them both. She had a strange feeling she’d seen them before, but couldn’t place it.

“Thank you,” Cal murmured, watching Elias with a look, trying not to draw attention to them. When she was out of earshot, he whispered close to the other man. “She’s suspicious.”

“We’ll do our best not to arouse her suspicions any further, then. We will leave as soon as we have your medication, given that, I can take care of you myself,” Hannibal sighed, and made his writing less perfectly copperplate than usual, then copied information from Cal’s passport.

The nurse returned, with a little smile, and moved around the desk. “We’ve got a bed for you this way, Cal. Are you okay walking, or are you unsteady?” “I’ve got him,” Elias said, gruffly, one arm around Cal as they moved to a bed behind white curtains.

“Yeah, fine,” Cal said, letting Elias move him awkwardly to the bed behind the curtain, sitting there. Hopefully this wouldn’t take long. He was sweating through his clothes.

“We’ll get you to change into a hospital gown, and the doctor will be in right away,” the nurse said, handing Cal a blue, backless hospital gown, which Elias took. “Doesn’t he get pants?” Elias asked, confused. “No, sorry. He can keep his underwear on, though,” she said, took a second look at them, and stepped out, closing the curtain behind her.

Cal stripped out of his pants first and then shirt, handing them to Elias. “Hold on to them in case we have to run,” he whispered roughly, trying to get his mind in the right place, but the heat from the fever was making it hard. He put the gown on, slowly.

“I will,” Elias promised under his breath, and helped Cal with the back of the gown, then touched his forehead. “I hope they see you soon,” he sighed, and laid a hand over the part of Cal’s jaw that was now getting swollen.

“I’d rather my obituary not say death by tooth infection,” Cal whispered back, head canted slightly into Elias hand. 

“Technically, I think your obituary would say you died of sepsis,” Hannibal whispered, and kissed Cal’s forehead, then straightened when he heard the doctor coming. An older doctor, sharp looking, walked in with Cal’s file in hand. “Mr. Roberts? I’m Dr. Sanche, good to meet you. What brings you in today?”

“It’s not in the paperwork I just filled out?” Cal sighed, swallowing, but that was getting hard to do. “Infection, in my mouth, it’s moving to my jaw.”

The doctor moved closer and used a small pen light from the pocket of his white coat to look inside Cal’s mouth with a frown. “A pretty bad one. How long has it been like this, with your fever?” the doctor asked, and took a swab from sterile wrapping as he spoke.

“Today. I’ve been on medication, but we’ve been traveling and I’ve missed a few doses,” Cal admitted.

“A few doses just once, or have the doses been really uneven?” the doctor asked, and gestured for Cal to open again so that he could swab the pus. “It’s been pretty uneven,” Elias answered, for Cal, pacing. “He’s smart, but forgets to take his pills. I told him, but he’s busy, always busy,” Elias fussed. “Is he going to be okay? Why is his face so swollen like that?” “The infection he was given pills for has become worse and came back stronger. We’ll stop you on what you were taking and start you on something stronger,” the doctor said as he wrote on Cal’s chart, “I’ll have the lab draw some cultures and we’ll look at your blood work. In the meantime, let’s get some fluid into you with an iv, and give you something for your fever,” the doctor suggested, and waved the nurse back in to start an iv in Cal’s arm.

“Thanks,” Cal sighed, wondering how long this would take, he had a very bad feeling.

The nurse cleaned Cal’s arm after tying a tourniquet, and palpated the best vein as she looked at the scar on the side of Cal’s face. “How did you get that one? That looks like it hurt,” she said, to make conversation and distract the patient while she inserted the needle, and threaded it in the lumen of the vein.

“Which one?” Cal asked, with a little mirth. “The Ladder offers many obstacles to overcome, some a little bit dangerous.”

“The one on your cheek, there,” the nurse said, obviously used to nonsense from her patients. 

“Knife. It’s what happened to the tooth and why it’s infected. I’m… not very handy with one, let’s just say,” Cal answered, bashfully, as though ashamed of his lack of skills. “Clumsy.”

Elias nodded and shook his head. “Good at everything else, but he fumbled a knife after opening it,” he sighed, and touched Cal’s shoulder, patting it. “I’ll handle them from now on.” The nurse added something into Cal’s iv after it began to run, “this is for the fever, it should start to work in about twenty minutes.”

“Thank you,” Cal murmured, genuinely. “You’re grace from the Light itself.”

“The Light?” she asked, since he’d mentioned it, twice, and began to get things ready to clean out Cal’s infection for him.

“The Light, the Truth,” Cal said, looking to Elias. “We didn’t bring in pamphlets did we?”

“No, they’re in the car,” Elias said, apologetically, and patted Cal’s shoulder again. “Rest, stop working for once.” The nurse nodded that she understood, in a patient way. “So, it’s to do with a religion, then?”

“Yes, it’s a Movement, though. A belief more than religion,” Cal explained, and sighed, giving into what Elias was saying. “I won’t bore you with it right now.”

“Well, I think the doctor is going to come in and give that abscess a clean out, anyhow. You won’t be able to talk very much,” the nurse said, and looked from Elias to Cal. “You’re … in business together?”

“He’s my… assistant, while we’re on the road searching for new places to lay down camps for the Movement,” Cal said, smiling a little back at Elias, only to rub his jaw.

Elias smiled back at Cal, awkwardly, and leaned over to give him a graceless hug around his shoulders, then stood back when the doctor entered and pulled some gloves on. “Cal, we’re going to give your tooth socket a little clean, then start you on the pills. This might hurt a little, and you will taste some of the infection, but it will help you heal up faster, alright?”

Cal patted Elias’ arm and then nodded, understanding, keeping his fingers clenched around Elias wrist. “I understand.”

Elias held Cal’s hand, and the doctor pulled on a mask while the nurse used a gloved hand to help hold Cal’s cheek to the side, and shone a light into Cal’s mouth. “Okay, just a little poke here,” the doctor said, as he used a long, thin scalpel to break the abscess, then used suction immediately to clean the white-green pus from Cal’s mouth. “There. Sorry, that’s the worst part, there. Just cleaning it out…”

Cal tried not to gag, holding on to Elias hand as he made a noise, but kept still so they could finish. There was a lot of trust happening here, and for all he knew the nurse had already figured them out and they were just waiting outside with cops. Will was suddenly very hyper aware unable to do anything about it.

Hannibal squeezed Will’s hand to comfort him as the doctor kept suctioning thick pus out of the wound, then finally stopped, and motioned for Cal to sit up as the nurse stepped back. “Here’s some antiseptic to rinse with. Swish it around in your mouth, spit it in the cup, and I’ll put a couple stitches in to close this up.”

Cal did, rinsing and swishing the fluid around in his mouth, and spit it back into the cup with a grimace.

The rinse was bloody and a little brownish in the cup, and the nurse took it away, quickly, then raised the head of Cal’s bed so that the doctor could continue. “Open again, please,” the doctor said, and went in with a needle and suture. Elias watched wincing as he watched the large, sloppy knots the doctor made, his fingers itching to do it properly, instead.

Cal gave Elias a look out of the corner of his eyes, which watered over a little, the pain only brief. 

Elias squeezed Cal’s hand, and sighed as the doctor pulled away. “There, that’s done. I’ll have the nurse bring your pills to take home, you have to eat something with these and you absolutely have to take them on schedule,” he warned.

“I’ll stick to a schedule,” Cal promised, nodding his head twice. He’d need to set his watch or phone.

“I’ll help,” Elias promised. The doctor nodded, and walked away, after nodding his agreement. “So, how long have you guys been travelling?” the nurse asked.

“Little over a year now,” Cal said, factually.

“Wow, must be a fun life. You get to see a bit of everything. When did you last have a tetanus shot, Cal?” she asked, looking at his chart.

“Before we began this journey,” Cal explained. “We made sure we were up on everything.”

“Good, so, before you were stabbed?” she asked, looking more closely at the scar on Cal’s cheek.

“Before the accident, yes,” Cal said, watching the nurse carefully, squeezing Elias’ hand. “No use traveling without being prepared.”

“Good, that looks nasty,” she said, and looked at the strange, long scar on Cal’s forehead, then straightened, as though struck with where she had seen Cal before. She looked from Cal to Elias, and back again, startled. “I’ll be right back with your medicine,” she promised, and backed out of the room.

Will gave Hannibal a look at that, narrowed and worried. “She knows,” he whispered.

“We need the pills,” Hannibal whispered, grimly, and smiled when another nurse came in with the bottle of pills. 

“Mr. Roberts? Here you are,” she said, and handed Cal his pills, her eyes going to Cal’s forehead scar, then Elias’s face before she left, too. “We’re leaving,” Hannibal said, decisively, “before they can call security.” He took the iv out of Will’s arm, and helped him off the bed, then out of the curtained room as quietly as possible.

Will followed Hannibal’s lead, clutching his arm the best he could, clothes gathered in his arms. “Quickly,” Will whispered in a hushed tone, able to feel the sense of urgency around them now, alarm.

“HEY-” a voice shouted at them from down the hall, and heavy footsteps follows as security guards raced to stop them from exiting. 

Will ushered Hannibal out toward the exit where the SUV was, his head swimming even still, but adrenaline was pumping now. “I might know a place we can go for a few days…”

Hannibal ran, pulling Will with him, and all but threw him into the passenger seat of the SUV as security officers spilled out of the ER, on their radios. Hannibal pulled out of the parking lot, and drove to the street, then sped toward the nearest freeway. “In Georgia? Whom do you know in Georgia?” Hannibal asked, as Winston sniffed Will, and licked his neck.

“My father,” Will stated, pulling out his phone to find the address only he had, and put it into the GPS, which told his no such place existed, but he told it to take him there anyway, manually. “Long story short, he’s not as dead as I claimed.”

Hannibal’s jaw dropped slightly, and he looked over at Will as they merged onto the highway. In fifteen minutes, every police officer in the city would be looking for them. They had to go somewhere. “Your … _father_?” he repeated, incredulously.

“He’s… a bit of a recluse,” Will explained, “take this exit here and make left turns starting at the first light. And then straight.”

Hannibal made the exit, and looked at Will, again. “Take your pills,” he said, handing Will a bottle of water, then made the first left. “Why did you not mention that your father is not dead?”

“Because he’s technically dead,” Will shrugged, and opened the pills and fished through a bag for one of the waters, and swallowed them down.

“Why is your father technically, but not literally dead?” Hannibal asked, curiously, and took another left, which put them on a small dirt road headed out of the city. 

“Tax evasion,” Will stated, subtly, and gave Hannibal a look. “He told me to tell everyone he was dead. It’s worked for him so far.”

Hannibal let out a short, surprised laugh, and relaxed a little as the road began to darken, surrounded by tall pine and oak trees that blocked out the sun. That would protect them from an aerial search, at least. “What is his name?”

“Ron,” Will answered, constantly checking the rearview to be sure no one was following. It seemed, for now, they lost them. “Good news is you won’t need to wear the disguise anymore.”

Hannibal pulled the wig and nose off, thankfully, glad to be rid of them. “I have no intention of meeting your father wearing those,” he sighed, and rubbed the last bits of glue from his face. “What is he like?”

“Brash,” Will huffed, drumming his fingers on the side of the door. “You’ll understand when you meet him.”

“A brash man capable of tax evasion, who loathes human contact,” Hannibal mused as they disappeared deeper, and deeper into the woods. “Left here?” he asked as he reached a barely visible fork in the road. The road to the left was a winding path through the trees, without any signs.

“Yes. Just through there. Good thing we got the SUV,” Will commented, wringing his hands together at the thought of seeing his father again.

“Why in the world didn’t you tell me?” Hannibal asked, as he handed Will his clothes so that he could dress as they vanished into the trees.

Will unbuckled and started to dress, not sweating anymore at least. He threw the gown behind them into the back. “It didn’t seem important. I haven’t seen him in years.”

“Parents are the most primal links we have to ourselves. I’m very much looking forward to meeting your father,” Hannibal said. “You had no intention of telling me about him unless you had to?”

Will shrugged as he did up his shirt. “You were never going to get to meet him. It hardly mattered.”

“I don’t imagine anyone you know has met him?” Hannibal asked, with a look at Will.

“Nope,” Will replied, with a look back. “Not even Molly.”

Hannibal’s dark eyes warmed a little at that, and he raised his chin as he continued to drive through the dark woods. “When was the last time you spoke to your father?”

“Ten or so years ago, maybe,” Will said, arms folded over his chest, shivering a little now that his fever was gone.

“That is quite some time. No phone calls, no letters?” Hannibal asked.

“He doesn’t have the means out here,” Will sighed, watching the road in the dark, just in case.

“I imagine that is by design,” Hannibal guessed.

“Easier to avoid people.” Will smiled over at Hannibal as another left came up. “Take this left and then just a little further we’ll be there.”

Hannibal took a slow left turn, and headed deeper into the green and black shadows of the forest, his anticipation growing. “Did your father attend your graduation from the police academy?”

“Yes. It was mortifying,” Will chuckled, grabbing a coat from the back and putting it on as the weather got cooler the further in they got.

“Why? What happened?” Hannibal asked, with a little gleam in his eyes at hearing a story about younger Will Graham.

“Dad doesn’t keep his opinions to himself,” Will said, not getting into it, Hannibal would find out soon enough.

Hannibal chuckled, and smiled to himself as they approached a wooden sign nailed to a tree that read: _Trespassers will be shot. Private property._ “Charming.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Will said as they rolled to a stop just in front of a wood shed. He unbuckled again and got out, checking around for any sign that they’d been followed, and then walked to the door of the cabin and knocked.

The cabin looked solid, and impressively built with logs that featured axe-sheared edges which interlocked precisely with one another. A hurricane would likely have difficulty uprooting the structure, or making a dent in it. Stone work surrounded the base of the cabin, and climbed upward, to create a large chimney along two sides of the building. The polished, solid oak door opened a crack, and the barrels of a shotgun fit through, aiming at Will and Hannibal. “No visitors,” came a rough, deep voice from the other side, and the sound of the gun being cocked. 

“You’re going to shoot your own son?” Will asked, putting his hand up to the barrell, to push it back toward his father. 

The shotgun barrel lowered, and the door opened wider to reveal a man about Will’s height. He was much more solidly built than his son, with more gray hair than what was once dark brown. Mr. Graham’s face was severe, and fixed in a permanent scowl, somewhat like the over-grown bulldog that sat at his side, frowning up at Will in the same way. 

Will obviously inherited his fine features from his mother. Ron Graham looked like he’d been carved out of one of the thick logs that made up the cabin, almost comically masculine in appearance from his broad chest to his pronounced moustache that hid his upper lip, and his wolf-blue eyes. “Well,” he said, in a stoic monotone with a nod at Will, “it’s about time.” He turned his piercing gaze from Will to Hannibal, looking him dead in the eye, still holding the shotgun. “Who the Hell is this?”

“This is Hannibal,” Will explained, trying not to roll his eyes at his father, knowing he’d get grief for that, too. “Hannibal, this my father, Ron.”

Hannibal offered his hand to shake Ron’s, “Pleased to meet you at last, Mr. Graham,” Hannibal said. Ron looked from Hannibal’s hand to his face, frowning a little more deeply as he shifted his square jaw. “You’re European,” he said, flatly. “Yes, Lithuanian,” Hannibal said, smoothly.

“Uh huh,” Ron said, “Will, get in here. Hambal, nice to meet you, get the hell off my land.”

“Dad, no, Hannibal is with me,” Will said, not going anywhere in the house as he reached behind him for Hannibal’s hand, the dogs having jumped from the SUV and trotting over to them. “So are the dogs.”

“The dogs are fine, even the little one,” Ron said, as he watched Buster pick up a stick and run with it. “I’ll allow that, but you know my rules. No cats, no Europeans.” Hannibal held Will’s hand, and Ron stopped when he noticed that, then looked back at Will with a heavy sigh. “Oh. It’s that kind of visit.”

“Yes and no,” Will replied, not letting go of Hannibal’s hand. “Hannibal is my …” Will mulled through words a moment, not quite sure which was more traditionally fitting before blurting out “boyfriend”.

Ron stared for a moment, impassively at Will, then stepped back and held the door open for both of them and the dogs, without a word. “Thank you, Mr. Graham,” Hannibal said, politely, as they stepped in.

Will stepped in, bringing Hannibal with him, so his father wouldn’t try to shut him out of the cabin. Buster and Winston both trotted inside, Winston wiping his paws on the door mat with a look up at Mr. Graham.

Ron huffed at that, and gave Winston a little scratch behind his ear with thick, heavily calloused fingers, then walked through a short hallway into a very plainly decorated living room, dominated by a riverstone fireplace at one end. “You have a beautiful home, Mr. Graham. Hand-constructed?” Hannibal guessed as he walked in after removing his shoes, his hand against Will’s back.

Mr. Graham poured himself a stiff glass of scotch, then pushed the bottle toward Will if he wanted one, and sat in a carved rocking chair by the fire with the bulldog at his side. “Kissing my ass is not gonna help,” he said, bluntly, and took a drink. “What is it you do for a living, Handball?” 

“I’m a psychiatrist,” Hannibal said, honestly, which made Ron cough on his drink and give Will a look. “A _psychiatrist_?” he repeated, looking at his son with disapproval radiating from his eyes beneath bushy brows.

“A very unconventional one,” Will added in, looking to Hannibal to see if having a drink was a good idea, but decided against it with the new medication, why risk it or the look he would get. Will stepped out of his boots and left them by the sofa.

“To put it mildly, yes,” Hannibal said, as he took a glass and poured some scotch into it, then sat down once Will sat down. Ron just watched them both, closely, and drank his scotch as he rocked back and forth in his chair, slowly. “Are you a vegetarian, son?” Ron asked, Hannibal, bluntly, which made Hannibal laugh. “Decidedly not. I am as carnivorous as they come,” Hannibal assured Ron with a tilt of his head over the glass.

Will sat close to Hannibal, one brow raised as he listened to their conversation. He smiled; “Hannibal hunts, too, dad,” he said, patting his _boyfriend’s_ leg.

“Oh, he does?” Ron asked, skeptically. “Well, I’ll tell you what, Handball. If you go out there, kill our dinner, bring it back and cook it-” Ron said, with a nod, “you can stay in the house. If you don’t, or if you burn it, or can’t bring yourself to eat it, you can sleep in your adorable little plastic car out there. Deal?” Hannibal swallowed a mouthful of scotch with a soft gleam in his eyes, and nodded, “deal. My word is my bond. If you will excuse me, Will,” Hannibal said to his boyfriend, and stood smoothly to head to the door. 

Will gave his father a look and stood to walk Hannibal to the door, touching his sides with still very shaky hands. “He’s just testing you. You don’t have to,” he whispered.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve killed anything, or cooked anything,” Hannibal whispered, and kissed Will’s forehead. “Please, go rest, drink some water, have a little food. You are ill.”

Will nodded his head once, rubbing his hand against Hannibal’s side and then grasped his hand gently. “Okay. I’m going to come look for you if you’re not back in two hours…”

“Fair enough,” Hannibal murmured, and kissed Will’s lips, relieved to feel he was cooler, now. “I shall see you soon,” he promised, and went to the impressive wall of weapons near the door, then selected a crossbow and arrows in a quiver, and stepped out, cheerfully.

Once Hannibal was out, Will shut the door and turned to his father with a sigh. “And you wonder why I never brought home any girlfriends in high school.”

“You weren’t considering marrying any of them,” Ron said, after another swallow of scotch.

“What makes you think I’m considering marrying him?” Will asked, eyes narrowed, wandering around the kitchen for a glass, filling it with water, and then taking a seat once more.

Winston and Buster jumped up to lay near Will on the couch, wagging, and Ron levelled Will with a look. “You haven’t been home in ten years, then you bring a boyfriend. Why else would you show up now?”

“I don’t know if you’d believe me if I told you,” Will sighed, aware his father didn’t watch tv, or have a newspaper. Ron Graham didn’t keep up with the times.

There was nothing about the times that interested Ron. He preferred to care about what he could see and hear, and not bother with other people’s nonsense. “Try me, son,” he said, staring at Will intensely across the small space of the living room. 

“First, you’re not wrong. Second, we’re on the run from the FBI,” Will said, with a sip of water, ducking his head, his father the only person who could get that sort of reaction from him these days.

“Jesus Christ,” Ron muttered, and sipped his scotch, then leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees. “What happened?”

“Well, long story short, we killed a man, my third, Hannibal’s… I don’t even know,” Will said, shrugging his shoulders. “But, Hannibal was locked up for three years, and I helped him escape. We’re trying to get south to get out of the States, and ran into some trouble at the hospital.”

Ron closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment as he took a deep, measured breath at the news his son just gave him. He stood, slowly, and paced, wordlessly, thinking it over before he looked at Will, for a long moment, considering his unusual son. “With any of these three men, did you throw the first punch?” he asked, sternly. 

“No,” Will admitted, almost silently. “The first was trying to kill his daughter, the second attacked me at home, and the third shoved a knife in my face.” That wasn’t to say Will had not antagonized the Dragon, however.

A flicker of relief crossed Ron’s face, and he heaved a sigh that made his barrel-shaped chest rise and fall, then licked his lips before he nodded, looking directly at Will like he had when Will was a boy. “I don’t care if you throw the last punch, Will. Do what you have to do. Just don’t start it.”

Will never did start it, not physically. He was smart enough to get others to do that for him. Probably one reason he could never lay a bitter hand on Hannibal. “Never have, never will.”

Ron poured himself another glass of scotch, taller than the last, and stared at Will, then into the fire as he drank. “That’s all I can ask,” he muttered, strangely resigned to Will’s status as a murderer on the run. “And your boyfriend?”

“He… starts it, but usually he only kills those who have been insufferably rude,” Will sighed, not sure if that made it much better, honestly.

Ron just raised his eyebrows, and drank, again, pacing slowly in front of his fireplace as he looked down into the amber scotch, thinking. “Well, _his_ parents can deal with that,” he muttered, “I didn’t raise him.”

“His parents are dead,” Will stated, finishing his water, having lost a lot of fluid, he got up again, light headed, to get more from the sink.

“Did he kill them?” Ron asked, and watched Will move to the sink, following him with the bulldog, who sniffed at Will’s leg.

Will made a face at his dad as he filled the glass up again. “No, they were killed, but he didn’t kill them. He’s not… horrible.”

“Not horrible, just kills anyone he thinks is rude,” Ron muttered, unconvinced. “Sure, lovely guy.”

“He’s not boring or plain, he challenges me,” Will said, stubbornly, leaning against the counter as he turned to look at his father. “He understands me.”

“Is he going to kill you someday? You’re rude.” Ron, like his son, was not a man to mince words.

“But I fascinate him, keep _him_ on his toes.” Will sighed, head canted. “Besides, he’s already tried that once.”

“Not what a father wants to hear,” Ron muttered, and finished his drink. “Look, I can’t stop you. You’ve always made up your own mind, and you’re going to do that now, no matter what I say. I told you not to become a cop, and you did. I could tell you not to marry this guy right now, you will. I’m not wasting my breath.”

“You don’t even know him,” Will said, obstinately, drinking down his glass of water with a few swallows. “He’s a great cook, you’re going to be very surprised.” 

“He’s a great cook who tried to kill you,” Ron muttered, with narrowed eyes at his stubborn son.

“I betrayed him. He thought the only way to get over me was to eat me,” Will explained, knowing it was ridiculous, but he’d grown to love Hannibal so much none of it mattered now.

Ron leveled Will with a stern look at that, unblinking and unamused. “Eat?”

“Hannibal is a cannibal,” Will jested. He decided to leave out the gutting part for now, he’d already talked himself into a hole.

“Is that a thing people do these days?” Ron asked, deadpan, as he emptied the bottle of scotch into his glass.

“He has his reasons.” Will poured one more glass of water, and then pulled a bowl down for the dogs and filled it with water as well, setting it by the back door.

“Well, I’m glad you found someone as strange as you are,” Ron muttered. “Never thought you’d go for a goddamned cannibal, though.”

“There are worse things to be… like… boring,” Will said, hands resting on a chair at the table as he glared over at his father. 

Ron just shifted his jaw, and took a deep breath. “Boring doesn’t end up on the run from the FBI.”

“From the man who had himself ‘killed’ so he wouldn’t have to pay taxes,” Will bit back.

“Do you really think I don’t know you? Do I look surprised that you’re mixed up in all of this?” Ron asked, steadily.

Will’s jaw shifted, mimicking what his father’s had done earlier. “Then why the hard time?”

“Because I’m your father, and it’s my damn job,” Ron muttered. “Do you really think I didn’t know you? What you’re capable of, even if you didn’t know? I raised you. I kept us moving so that you didn’t get into too much trouble in one place, so you didn’t end up with a record.”

“You said it was because of work,” Will pointed out, narrowing his eyes on his father as he came around the table to stand in front of him.

“I said a lot of things to protect you,” Ron replied, staring Will down. 

“What else?” 

“What do you think?” Ron fired back, stoning his expressions over, trying to make himself unreadable.

“I think you’re hiding and trying to block me out,” Will said, and turned to go back into the living room, scratching Winston’s head on his way. “If you don’t want to be honest and open, don’t be.”

“Your mother was normal.” Ron blurted the confession out, and tried to drown it with more scotch.

“She-” Will stopped himself at the realization, and what it all meant. In his father, Will saw a lot of himself, the drinking included, to try and stave off all the emotions coming right at him. “We’re the reason you’re drinking right now. It’s too much.”

Ron paced again, and took a breath that made his wide back move up and down, slowly, before he spoke again. “Your mother’s name was Gloria. She was normal. I told you that she was like you, and she left because she couldn’t handle her emotions, so that you still thought she was a good person,” Ron said, in a voice that sounded much older than it did a moment ago. “The truth is, she couldn’t handle us, you and me. I’ve always been the one like you, Will. I couldn’t let myself show it. I couldn’t be a father if I let myself feel … _everything_. We’d both fall apart. I shut it off, did what I had to do. I was alone. You were going to have a hell of a time growing up. You didn’t need me falling apart on you on top of all that.”

“So, my mother was a lie,” Will said, aware he’d thought many things about his mother, but he never did forgive her either way for leaving. “Doesn’t matter… I… Dad…”

Ron bit the inside of his cheek, and looked away. “I didn’t want you to become a cop because I knew the things you’d see, and … I hate cops, but mostly because I didn’t want you to feel all that … darkness. You already had enough darkness inside you, even as a boy. I understood you, better than you thought I did.”

“Yeah…” Will let out a long sigh, licking the inside of his teeth. “Didn’t last long as a cop.”

“Didn’t think you would,” Ron admitted, “not because you weren’t smart as hell. You are. You always have been. It’s just not a good place for people like … us. I know, I was in the army, before you were born.”

“Yeah,” Will said again, letting it all soak in. “I probably should have stayed away completely from law enforcement…”

“I tried, but like I said, you make up your own damn mind,” Ron sighed, opening up a little, letting his granite guard down for the first time in decades around his son. “I was angry after your mother left, for years. You were a baby. You would have thought I was mad at you.”

Will walked a little closer to his father. They weren’t the touchy feely hugging kind, and now he knew it was for good reason that his father had been so closed off. “I’m an adult now, I can close myself off when I want to. You don’t have to hide.”

“I’ve been doing it so long that I think it’s just … me, now,” Ron joked, wryly, his moustache twitching slightly as he managed a hidden smile.

“I can understand that. I did that for three years,” Will sighed, standing closer to his father, a little like a wolf cub to his parent.

“Why?” Ron asked, bluntly. Even now that Will was grown, he still dwarfed his son, if not in height, in build. 

“Married a nice girl who had a son. Thought I could hack this… simple boring life of tuna casseroles and tupperware,” Will said, quiet but knowingly.

“And it crashed and burned when you started being yourself,” Ron guessed, with the sort of wisdom that only painful experience could bring.

“I thought I was being myself,” Will mused, taking a deep breath, remembering what he had told Molly before he left. “But I’m never more myself than when I’m with Hannibal. That’s just a fact.”

Ron watched Will as he spoke, reading him just the same way Will could read others, able to feel how sincere he was, how at home he was with Hannibal in a way that he could never be with anyone else. _Damn it_. Ron put a large hand on Will’s shoulder, and nodded. “Okay. I won’t shoot him in the face when he gets back.”

“Thank you. I really… love this one, dad,” Will said with a growing smirk.

“Does it have to be a European cannibal? I’m sure there are some nice American cannibals you could end up with,” Ron muttered, and refilled his glass, not even tipsy. “Psychiatry is a made up branch of medicine. Get a real doctor, for Christ’s sake.”

“He was surgeon first,” Will added, with raised brows to see what his father could find to fault in that.

“Probably just in it for the leftovers he could take home,” Ron grumbled. “All doctors are quacks, son, even the real ones. All a man needs is fresh air, scotch, and time.”

“I’ve been exposing him to two of those,” Will said with a look at Hannibal empty glass of scotch left behind. “You helped with the third.”

“To save time, just assume I’m always right,” Ron said, with another hint of a smile, and looked at Will’s swollen jaw. “You should go to sleep.”

“Is that an order, sir?” Will asked, teasingly, feeling like he’d slept for days, but his body was clearly run down.

“More or less. Take the dogs with you. I’ll wake you up when your boyfriend has dinner ready. He’s going to overcook the meat,” Ron sighed. 

“He won’t,” Will insisted, and padded off toward the bedroom, the dogs following behind him. The second his head hit the pillow, Will was out, gone to the world.


	8. Chapter 8

It was Hannibal, and not Ron, who sat on the edge of the bed hours later, and touched Will’s shoulder. “Breakfast is ready, how do you feel?” Hannibal asked while Buster raised his head from where he was napping behind Will’s bent knees.

Will turned his head to look at Hannibal, drowsy, but his face was less swollen. He smiled a little. “He didn’t shoot you in the face…”

“Not yet, no,” Hannibal said with a smile and laid next to Will for a moment. “He won’t speak to me, he grunts and points in response to questions.”

“At least he didn’t kill you. He really wanted to,” Will whispered, reaching his hand to touch Hannibal’s hip.

“He is a protective father,” Hannibal said, untroubled by the idea.

“I might have told him you ate people,” Will confessed, moving forward a little to rest their faces together.

“Did you?” Hannibal sighed and wrapped his arms around Will. “Why would you do that?”

“It slipped out. My dad has a glare worse than Jack’s,” Will chuckled, one leg slung over Hannibal’s hip. “He… understands though, that I love you, that it’s not going to change.”

“Considering that he has not killed me, and the FBI has not come, I’d say he has taken it rather well.”

“Yeah. He’s afraid you might still eat me, but I guess he figures if that happens he’ll just hunt you down,” Will teased, knowing full well they were passed all that.

“I have no intentions of eating you,” Hannibal assured Will, with a kiss.

“Not like that, anyway?” Will whispered, raking a hand through Hannibal’s longer hair, then wrinkled up his nose. “You can shave off this awful mustache now.”

“Thankfully,” Hannibal smiled and moved his head against Will’s palm. “I will throw that terrible wig into the fire.”

“Ritualistic ceremony of burning?” Will laughed and rested their foreheads together. “What did you find for dinner?”

“Elk,” Hannibal answered, “I’ve prepared a tenderloin with a whiskey cream sauce,” he explained, and sat up, pulling Will up with him.

“How long have I been asleep?” Will chuckled, on his feet, slipping his hand into Hannibal’s. They’d left in the early evening to the emergency, it had to be well into early morning now.

“A few hours,” Hannibal said, “it’s morning now. Your father and I have been working in silence through the night, he on his scotch, I on the elk.”

“I’m surprised he’s still standing,” Will said with a small smile as they walked out of the bedroom, hand in hand.

“I think he’s reluctant to sleep in my presence,” Hannibal whispered. Sure enough, Ron was feeding the dogs, homemade food, like what Will usually fed them. 

“You’re up. Take your pill.”

Will pulled the bottle from his coat pocket that he had laid over the couch the night before, and popped a pill into his mouth, and went to reuse his glass from last night to get some water. Once swallowed, and bent to pet the dogs. “So dinner for breakfast?”

“No,” Hannibal said with a smile. “Owing to the late hour at which I returned, the tenderloin will be slow roasted for dinner tonight. I’ve made eggs and sausage for this morning,” he said and pulled out Will’s chair for him at the table.

“Even better,” Will murmured, and took the seat Hannibal offered, fingers brushing over the doctor’s a moment longer than needed.

Ron took his seat, without fuss, and put a cup of coffee in front of his son as Hannibal brought their beautifully arranged plates to the table. “No need to dress it up,” Rob grumbled and picked up his fork.

“Hannibal doesn’t know how not to dress it up,” Will said, quietly, with a grin over at Hannibal, taking up his fork to shovel eggs into his mouth.

“Presentation is as important as flavor,” Hannibal said and took his seat. 

“Hm,” Ron muttered, and shoveled some eggs into his mouth, then paused at the way they tasted, chewing slowly.

Will watched his father carefully out of the corner of his eye, smirking a bit as he continued to eat. “It’s great, Hannibal, thank you.”

“You are quite welcome. It’s the same recipe I used to prepare a surprise breakfast for you the second time we met,” Hannibal said, with a smile.

Will slowed his chewing just a little, eyes narrowing on Hannibal. “Different sausage.”

“Yes, different sausage,” Hannibal smiled, over his cup of coffee. “This is elk.”

“You fed my son human the second time you met him?” Ron asked, sternly.

“Yes,” Hannibal admitted, without an ounce of shame.

“I was completely unaware,” Will pointed out, but smiled over at Hannibal.

“But, he enjoyed it,” Hannibal said, fondly, as Ron eyed his sausage, then tried it. He made a face like he was doing his best not to say he liked it as he cut another piece. “What’s it taste like?”

“You’d never know it wasn’t pork,” Will said, having been fooled himself.

“Or beef, or even chicken. Human anatomy is rather unique in that we have both light and dark meat. The dark meat runs along the postural muscles, and white meat in our calves and thighs, for instance,” Hannibal said, expertly. 

“Hm,” Ron hummed, giving Hannibal a wary look. “So, how do you choose who gets eaten?” he asked.

“I only prepare the rude,” Hannibal replied, politely, “arrogant doctors, inconsiderate motorists who cause accidents with their careless disregard for the lives of others, those who refuse to respect the dignity and privacy of those around them. I once ate the liver of a census taker who attempted to enumerate me, with fava beans, and a nice chianti.”

Ron actually chuckled at that, and sipped his coffee, then put it down. “Can’t say I’m fond of census takers.”

Will looked between Hannibal and his father with a growing grin, but only put more food into his mouth and washed it down with more coffee. Seeing them get along was nice actually, even if he never thought he’d see the day his father would meet Hannibal, or anyone Will had ever been close to.

“He insisted on putting his foot in the door when I attempted to close it,” Hannibal said, and Ron grunted, in reply, nodding. 

“I probably would have shot him,” Ron admitted, with another mouthful of eggs. 

“Then the only difference between us is that I put the meat to good use,” Hannibal smirked.

Will forced back a chuckle, almost choking on his food when he gave Hannibal a look. 

“Maybe,” was all Ron would say, then ate another bite of the sausage, enjoying it. 

“How is your jaw, Will?” Hannibal asked, looking over at Will to give Ron some quiet while he ate.

“Better,” Will said through a bite of food he’d just stuck in his mouth. “How’s it look?”

“Less swollen than last night, certainly. You’re no longer feverish,” Hannibal noted, with relief.

“Thankfully,” Will sighed, realizing now that his head had cleared from the fever this was his fault they’d been found out.

“Do you have any pain with eating?” Hannibal asked, then sipped his coffee.

“Only if I chew on that side.” Will set his fork down, plate empty, and then stood, clearing the dishes so he could clean up since they made breakfast.

“Needless to say, I’d avoid chewing on that side, in that case,” Hannibal said, dryly, and let Will take his plate with a smile in his eyes.

“Thank God you went to medical school,” Ron muttered.

“I don’t know what I would do without your expert advice, Doctor Lecter,” Will teased, setting the plates in the sink to wash by hand. There was something just homely and nice about being at his father’s, something he hadn't realized he needed.

“Now I understand from whom Will gets his dry wit,” Hannibal said, as he sipped his coffee, and pet Winston as he wandered over while Ron finished his meal, and brought his plate to the sink with a yawn.

“Sleep, Dad, we’ll make sure no one bothers you here,” Will offered, scrubbing his father’s plate clean.

Ron grunted his agreement and wandered back toward the bedroom with his bulldog, who seemed to be Ron’s constant, frowning shadow. The bedroom door closed, and Hannibal smiled at Will. “I think he might be warming up to me.”

“Maybe,” Will said, over his shoulder, washing the pan and then set them in the sink to dry. “You have a long way to go.”

“I won you over,” Hannibal reminded Will, arms around him from behind.

“It took five years,” Will said, leaning back into Hannibal, wiping his wet hands on a towel.

“Only five years,” Hannibal purred in Will’s ear, hands on his chest. “Three of which I spent in prison, what a bargain.”

Will leaned back enough to tip his head to look at Hannibal, to match his gaze with his own, hands reaching behind him to touch his thighs. “You’ve endured a lot to be with me.”

“So I have. I suppose I’ve proven myself,” Hannibal whispered, gazing into Will’s blue eyes, fondly. “I’ve worn this terrible mustache for far too long.”

“Let’s go shave it off,” Will offered but leaned to kiss Hannibal anyway, turning in his arms to hug him properly.

“Would you like to do the honors?” Hannibal asked against Will’s lips, and embraced him, tightly, relieved that Will was no longer feverish. It was difficult to believe he’d been able to watch Will become even sicker than that with impunity, before. They hadn’t been this close, then.

“Yes,” Will whispered and kissed Hannibal on the mouth, walking him back toward the bathroom, sure his father had everything they would need in there.

Hannibal walked with Will, and stopped for a moment to take a razor from their duffle bag, then joined Will in the bathroom and presented him with the instrument. “Please.”

Will lathered shaving cream in his hands. “Take your shirt off.”

Hannibal smiled a little at that, and unbuttoned his shirt, slowly, then peeled it off for Will. “Better?”

“Yes,” Will said, and sat on the counter, thighs spread, beckoning Hannibal closer.

Hannibal stepped between Will’s thighs, licking his own lips, and ran his hands over the tops of them, slowly. “Time to say goodbye to Elias.”

Will smiled softly at that and smoothed the cream over Hannibal’s face slowly, then his upper lip. “A shame to see him go, but I will be glad to have you back.”

“You really liked him?” Hannibal asked, tilting his face as Will spread the cream over his skin, eyes closed, happily. “He was dreadful.”

“He was oddly endearing,” Will quipped, getting the razor, he started with Hannibal’s upper lip slowly and then worked his way down his face.

Hannibal kept perfectly still as Will shaved him, reveling in the intimacy of the act, the trust involved. “Like a stray dog?”

“A little bit,” Will said, smiling, wondering how in the space of a week they ended up here, Will shaving Hannibal. Not that he minded, it was better than any intimacy he’d ever had. He cleaned the blade off under the hot tap and started on the other side.

Hannibal watched Will, marveling at the sheer masculine beauty of his face, close up, and rested his hands on Will’s waist. “He was besotted with Cal.”

“I don’t know that Cal would have been able to do much with Elias,” Will said with some emotion, having gotten a bit attached to their characters after all the fleshing out they had done, and all for nothing. “But I think he did care about him, loved him…”

“That would have been enough. I think Elias desperately wanted to be loved, more than anything,” Hannibal murmured, and held Will a little closer at the sound of his voice.

“I think so, too,” Will whispered, finishing with one last stroke under Hannibal's chin. He got a cloth and wet it a little, wiping Hannibal's face for him. “There you are.”

Hannibal reached up to feel his own face, relieved to feel his own smooth skin again. “Thank you, Will,” he whispered and leaned in to kiss Will, without a mustache in the way, for the first time.

Will sighed into the kiss, arms going around Hannibal's bare shoulders. His own face was unshaven, scruffy, just as they should be, save for Will's cropped hair.

Hannibal kissed Will, slowly, both Will’s arms, and both legs around him as he tilted his head to lock their lips together, sensually, and clutched one hand in the back of Will’s shirt as he hummed.

“Hannibal…” Will whispered, unable to pull away, loving every inch of his smooth face as they kissed, a different sensation altogether.

“Better without the mustache?” Hannibal whispered, finally able to feel like himself without the last trace of his disguise.

“Much,” Will replied, nipping at Hannibal’s upper lip without getting a mouthful of mustache. “Much, much better.”

Hannibal sighed, and kissed Will for that, harder, their tongues winding together between their mouths. Hannibal ran one hand up Will’s chest and slipped a button undone on his shirt. Will’s chest heaved one at the touch as if aching for it since they’d last been together like this. He clawed Hannibal closer, all but drinking from his mouth with how passionately he kissed Hannibal, overwhelmed with need.

Will’s skin was warm, but not with fever, this time. Hannibal undid Will’s shirt slowly, and dragged his teeth over Will’s lower lip, and kept him close with both hands clutched in Will’s open shirt before he tugged it down his arms.

Will dropped his arms to toss off his shirt, somewhere next to them, it hardly mattered, and started to undo Hannibal’s pants, letting them fall down around his ankles as he kissed the underside of his clean shaven jaw.

Hannibal stepped out of his pants, and tipped his head back, letting Will explore his throat as he palmed the bite mark that was healing quickly over Will’s heart. “Will…” he whispered, tingling all over with pleasure.

“I thought for sure we were going to get caught last night,” Will whispered, biting kisses against Hannibal’s jaw, fingers trailing down over the waistband of his underwear.

“I wasn’t about to let that happen,” Hannibal whispered, hips arching toward Will’s fingers, eagerly, a stiff bulge under the thin fabric. He undid Will’s pants, unzipping them slowly.

Will slipped off the counter and in front of Hannibal, pushing Hannibal’s underwear to the ground and stepped out of his own pants. “I know. I was delusional with fever.”

Hannibal kicked his underwear away, and kissed Will’s lips, passionately. “I’m not going to let us be parted,” he whispered as he peeled Will’s underwear off.

“Better not,” Will said as he stepped out of those, too, and reached over to lock the door. He reached for Hannibal’s face with both hands and pulled him in for another long, passionate kiss, pressed close to him.

Hannibal pulled Will back toward the shower and turned it on, blindly. They both needed a shower, and the sound of water would muffle any noise they made together. “I’d rather die,” Hannibal whispered, between kisses.

Will groaned and bit Hannibal’s lip once, slipping into the shower, tugging Hannibal with him. “Not today.”

“Not today,” Hannibal agreed as they stepped into the shower together, and kissed under the thankfully hot spray of water.

Will reached between them and groped Hannibal’s cock as the water washed down over them, kissing him, letting the fact his father was in the other not bother him. 

Hannibal sucked Will’s tongue, and arched his hips upward, into Will’s grip as he stroked Will at the same time. “If we had a bed…” Hannibal whispered.

“We don’t. We have an SUV or a couch,” Will whispered back, slowly working Hannibal up, thumbing over the tip of his cock roughly.

Hannibal rested his face against Will’s and kissed him again, hard. “A shame…”

“Very much a shame,” Will panted, licking into Hannibal’s mouth. But, for now, they had this, at least until they left here.

Hannibal groaned and thrust against Will’s hand, already able to feel his body tense and squeeze with pleasure. Will bit down Hannibal’s jaw with that, working him over faster and faster.

“Will-” the name escaped Hannibal’s lips as his hand did the same, matching Will stroke for stroke as his body began to overheat.

Will bit Hannibal’s jaw this time, and then his neck, over his pulse, as he thrust his hips into his hand, coming completely undone then and there, panting into the steamy confines of the shower. “Hannibal…”

 

Hannibal squeezed Will as he came with one hand, and tugged at Will’s balls with the other. He followed, shortly, groaning against Will’s temple as he felt the tingling, intoxicating wave of bliss crash through his body as he spilled against Will’s palm. 

The water kept beating down, and Hannibal wound one long arm around Will’s back, hugging him close as they were rinsed clean.

Will held Hannibal close, arms around him, face against his own, breathing slowly together. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Hannibal whispered as they caught their breath. In post-coital clarity, Hannibal knew that the longer they showered together, likely the worse it would sound to Will’s father, but could not bring himself to care, and hoped the man was sound asleep.

Will reached for the shampoo and washed Hannibal’s hair with it, lathering the suds into his longer strands. “I like you without the mustache a lot more.”

Hannibal smiled a little at that and kissed Will for it. “Why is that?”

“Less fuzzy,” Will chuckled, pulling Hannibal forward to rinse his hair, carefully.

“Was it irritating when we kissed?” Hannibal asked, as his head was bent down so that Will could slip his fingers through the silky, wet strands.

“No, just hard to bite you,” Will said, nipping at Hannibal’s upper lip to prove his point. Will rinsed the strands clean with his father’s horrible smelling shampoo.

Hannibal smiled, and purred a little at that, repaying Will for it with a bite against his lower lip. “I am all yours, every inch of me.”

“Every inch?” Will asked, coyly, running his hands down Hannibal’s sides slowly.

“Every single inch,” Hannibal whispered seductively and stretched a little under Will’s hands as he pushed his wet hair back, away from his eyes.

“Lucky me,” Will whispered, taking in Hannibal’s very sight, with a long gaze, and then kissed him sweetly.

Hannibal’s heart skipped a few beats when Will did that. He became lost in the hypnotic green-blue of Will’s eyes and then closed his eyes for the kiss as he held Will to his bare chest. “You have enchanted me,” Hannibal whispered when their lips parted.

“Likewise, Doctor,” Will whispered back, resting their foreheads together.

“Did your father think we’d come to announce that we were getting married?” Hannibal asked with a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“Yes, he did actually. He thought that was what we were here for. I corrected him, to a point,” Will explain, a smile growing across his lips.

“To a point?” Hannibal asked, blinking at Will with silvery eyelashes that held drops of water in them. Hannibal’s usually graceful, steady heart stumbled again, skipping several beats in a row.

“I didn’t correct him when he mentioned I wanted to marry you,” Will said with a coy cant of his head, smile broadening.

Hannibal blushed, something he could not remember doing in front of anyone but Will, and touched Will’s jaw with his palm. “Was there a reason to correct him?”

“No, no reason to since it was true.” Will touched Hannibal’s high cheekbone where it flushed.

Hannibal was speechless for a moment, stunned. All he could do was breathe and stare at Will with wet eyes. “Freddie Lounds would be happy to know that she’d titled us appropriately,” he whispered.

“She would have been.” Will reached and turned the water off behind him, and then tugged towels off the rack on the wall.

Hannibal pulled Will closer for a long, sweet kiss, their chests together so that Will could feel the effect he had on Hannibal’s beating heart. He let their lips part and smiled. “When you’re ready to propose, I prefer platinum over yellow gold,” Hannibal joked.

Will wrapped the towel around Hannibal’s hips, keeping close. “Platinum. Let me check my bank account,” he teased softly.

“I could make due with white gold,” Hannibal teased, and kissed Will’s warm, pink lips, slowly. “Considering that I would treasure anything you gave me.”

“I’ll go out and find some twine,” Will whispered with a smirk, and then tied the other towel around his own hips.

Hannibal laughed and used a third towel to dry Will’s short hair, then his back and shoulders as they murmured to one another. “How decadent. Twine,” he chuckled, and kissed Will for it. “From you? I would consider wearing it.”

“Just a placeholder,” Will said, setting out of the shower, never straying far from Hannibal.

“A three-star ring, for our escape,” Hannibal mused as he turned toward the mirror to fix his hair.

Will rolled his eyes, and wrapped his arms around Hannibal’s shoulders from behind. “It’s that fact I give you anything at all, though, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Hannibal smiled in the mirror, and looked back at Will, staring into his eyes. “I kept a bottle of wine that you gave me for years, for a special occasion. I know very well it was hardly expensive, that was not why I treasured it.”

“Then you have to promise not to complain when I do propose and give you a ring that is not to your liking,” Will said, very pointedly.

Hannibal picked up Will’s hand and kissed his knuckles fondly before he looked at him in the mirror. “I promise,” he said, sincerely, his dark eyes still lit from within with happiness.

“Sap,” Will said, and picked up their clothes, unlocking the door out, looking around first to be sure his father was not awake. “We need a change of clothes.” Luckily they had bought some.

Hannibal gave Will a look and followed him out after ensuring that they left the bathroom as clean as they had found it. He closed the door behind them, quietly. “Elias’s wardrobe lives on, sadly,” Hannibal murmured.

“He insisted on having those awful suits,” Will said with a grin, nodding to the suits that had been brought in earlier and now hung on the back of the front door.

“I should have eaten him,” Hannibal said with a sigh, and went to the suits to retrieve a pair of trousers, and found a dark shirt to go with them. “This will have to do.”

Will found his horribly uptight Cal clothes, and put on the khakis and a polo shirt. “For now. Once we’re in the clear, we can make our way south again and hope to get out of US waters, then we can find better clothes.”

Hannibal did his best with the ill-fitting clothes. He left the neck open and rolled up his sleeves to reveal his forearms, then tucked the shirt in just so. “It cannot come soon enough,” Hannibal said as Winston leaned against his leg with a look up at him.

“This or you borrow dad’s clothes,” Will mused, and bent to pet Winston.

Winston smiled at Will and wagged his plumed tail at the attention while Hannibal chuckled. “I don’t think that is feasible, for many reasons.”

“Afraid you won’t fill them out?” Will asked, and went to get the dogs more water in their dishes.

“Freud would have found that a fascinating comment, but no, I was referring to the fact that I am several inches taller than both of you, and that your father does not seem like the sort of man willing to share what he does not have to,” Hannibal replied, and checked on his marinating roast.

“You’re right about that,” Will said, bent over, and then straightened. “I was teasing anyway.”

“Yes, I know,” Hannibal said, distracted by the way Will had been bent. Will never ceased to distract him from whatever it was he had been doing before with nothing but a simple movement.

“Did you?” Will asked, sidling up to Hannibal, palming down his chest.

Hannibal took a deep breath as he enjoyed the way Will touched his chest. He was able to remember a time when he could only dream of Will touching him that way. It still made Hannibal’s heart beat a little faster. “Of course.”

Will leaned and kissed Hannibal’s jaw gently, nipping at the smooth skin. “You’re all back to normal now.”

“Being in one’s own skin can have that effect,” Hannibal whispered, both hands settling against the small of Will’s back

“I have a ways to go to be completely back to normal, unless I keep my hair this way,” Will sighed. “Maybe I need a hat for when we do leave. Have we checked the news?”

“Your father does not have reception here. We’d have to drive back toward the main highway to check our phone,” Hannibal said, and brushed his hand against Will’s shorn hair.

“That’s risky so soon after fleeing,” Will whispered, rubbing his palm over Hannibal’s heart.

“Then we will have to content ourselves with not knowing for a while longer, yet,” Hannibal said, and laid his hand over Will’s, holding it there.

“I’m okay with that.” Will leaned in and kissed Hannibal softly. 

“As am I,” Hannibal murmured, and sank into the kiss, losing himself in the warmth of Will’s mouth on his own.

***

They worked the rest of the day to chop wood and create side dishes for the meal, so by the time Ron woke, everything would be taken care of and all he had to do was… whatever Will’s father did.

Ron woke and lumbered out of his room with the bulldog, then cracked his neck loudly, and looked around the house. “I smell meat.”

“That would be dinner,” Will said, placing settings at the table, water glasses and even a glass for whatever else his father wanted. Will took his pill, staying on track.

“Looks like it,” Ron sighed and went to check if the dogs were fed, which of course, they were. “Well, let’s eat.” 

Ron sat down without further comment and eyed all the side dishes. “How many people are we feeding, exactly?”

“Hannibal likes to be sure we have enough,” Will said, taking a seat, and waiting for Hannibal.

Hannibal carried the roast to the table, and.set it down, elegantly, before carving a couple of pieces for Ron. 

“This isn’t people, is it?” Ron asked, bluntly, as Hannibal set the slices down on Ron’s plate, then served Will.

“You saw him bring in the elk,” Will said to his father with a look.

“All the meat at the table this evening is elk,” Hannibal assured Ron and took his seat after serving himself last. 

“Hm,” Ron grunted, and looked at the roast, shifting his jaw to the side. It wasn’t over cooked in the least, it looked incredible if he was,to be honest aloud. Instead, he cut into the meat and tried a piece, eyes focused in the distance as he chewed, slowly. The elk meat was beyond tender, falling apart in his mouth, and full of flavor.

Will took a bite once his father seemed satisfied, and hummed around his fork. It was the best meal they had had since… well, Will couldn’t rightly remember. “This is amazing.”

“Thank you,” Hannibal said, beaming with pride, and offered a tureen of something that smelled heavenly to Will. “I prepared whiskey cream sauce in lieu of gravy,” he said, eyes shining. He loved to impress Will, and to watch him eat, nearly more than anything.

“Did you?” Will asked, taking the sauce and pouring some on his meat and then passed it along to his father. He tasted it, and hummed, shaking his head. “I really have missed your cooking.”

Ron held up his hand at the offer of sauce. “That’s unnecessary,” he said, and took another bite of the elk, his eyes going distant again as he ate. 

Hannibal just smiled at Will and took the sauce from him to drizzle a little on his slices of roast, thinner than Ron and Will’s, according to their preferences. “Elegance is refusal,” he quipped, enjoying their strange family dinner.

“Dad hates ketchup, A1, anything that masks the taste of the way food should be enjoyed,” Will explained, but Will found he enjoyed how the sauce accented the taste.

Hannibal nodded his understanding and sipped his water, then looked at Ron as he swallowed. The serious, severe looking older man took a moment to consider his words before speaking. “I don’t want to seem dramatic, but this is … satisfactory.”

“Thank you,” Hannibal said, with a soft laugh, and looked at Will.

Will rolled his eyes and forked potatoes into his mouth, shaking his head. “That’s the only compliment you’ll get from him.”

“Fair enough,” Hannibal said and looked at Will, “I can see from whom you get your penchant for understatement,” Hannibal pointed out.

“Considering he is the only source you’ll ever meet,” Will offered, finishing his food, and then set his fork down on the plate.

“Then I will take whatever I can. Would you like more?” he offered Will, politely.

“Maybe a little,” Will said since they hadn’t eaten well for a week nearly.

Hannibal gave Will another helping and managed to control his surprise when Ron cleared his throat. “Yeah, me too,” he admitted, gruffly.

Will touched Hannibal’s leg under the table with his bare toes, smiling over at him as he cut into his next helping. “So, dad, what have you been doing out here?”

“What man was made to do: survive,” Ron said, simply, and took another bite of elk, chewing and swallowing before he answered again. “I haven’t missed being around people in a decade. Fresh air and hard work, that’s all I need.”

“Where do you get your supply of scotch and whiskey from?” Will asked, forking another bite into his mouth, curious.

“I have a still, a ways off. I either make it myself, or I trade a farmer who lives a few miles away, for firewood,” Ron said, with a sip of his whiskey. “No chatter, just trading.”

Will only nodded at that, very impressed. I idly wondered if he and Hannibal could live like this somewhere, no people contact whatsoever. “I admire you for your ability to keep to this, Dad.”

Ron just looked at Will and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s peaceful. I have everything I want, and nothing I don’t want. How long are you two staying?”

“Until we know if the FBI has stopped looking for us,” Will said, taking his last bite, now stuffed, brimming. “Then we’ll be out of your hair.”

“And how are you going to know that? I don’t have a television or a radio out here,” Ron said and eyed his third helping of elk, which Hannibal gladly served him, beaming with pride.

“We’ll have to risk going out until we get signal, and see what they’re saying. What else can we do?” Will suggested, leaning back in his chair.

Ron considered it as he cut his meat. “Radio doesn’t work in your … vehicle out there? You could just have a listen now and then to the news.”

“The radio doesn’t have the most up to date information, the internet would be a much more current source of information,” Hannibal pointed out, gently.

“We have our cell phone, we just need to get signal,” Will added, noting a hint of his father’s concern.

“Maybe the farmer I trade with will have a signal close to his place. I’ll show you the way tomorrow. You won’t be on the main road that way, he’s an old man, with coke-bottle glasses, he can’t see much anyway,” Ron sighed.

“That would be lovely, thank you,” Hannibal said, gratefully, and stood to clear their plates.

“Yeah, thanks, Dad,” Will said with a smile over at his father, and then touched Hannibal’s arm so he didn’t try to do the dishes. “I’ll do them.”

“Thank you,” Hannibal said, and kissed Will’s cheek before he took the dishes to the sink, and set them inside, then returned to the table. 

“Keep cooking like that, you can stay as long as you want,” Ron said, with a nod to Hannibal, and another drink of his whiskey.

“You wouldn’t grow irritated with us?” Will asked, gathering up the rest of the plates to put in the sink and ran some water.

“I might build you a guest cabin out back, but … it could be worse,” Ron said, as he got up to pour himself another drink.

“You’ll be going through more bottles of scotch if we stay,” Will called from the sink, but looked over his shoulder at Hannibal, wondering how he’d fair to staying.

Hannibal just smiled over at Will, not averse to the idea. “It may, honestly, take quite some time for the FBI to refocus their investigation a safe distance away. We have been elusive, and I’m certain they are frustrated.”

“That’s true. They could come this way, as well, I’d hate for Dad to get involved,” Will said, scrubbing a plate clean.

“I’ve got places to hide you,” Ron assured Will, with a chuckle, and pet the bulldog with a gruff smile at the old pup.

“You really want to take us in?” Will asked, serious this time, drying his hands after finishing the last dish.

“I already have,” Ron said, matter-of-factly. “But I don’t like sleeping in shifts, so you need a place of your own.”

“It’s going to be spring soon, we could get to work on a little cabin,” Will offered, sitting back at the table as he shook out a pill and swallowed it with some water.

“The ground’s already starting to thaw. Might as well,” Ron agreed with a nod and tossed the dogs all pieces of jerky.

Will reached to touch Hannibal’s hand. “What do you think?” They had to be sure, as this was something Will was used to, not Hannibal.

Hannibal curled his hand around Will’s and looked at him after licking his lips. “I think your father’s offer is very generous, and we would be foolish not to accept. As I said, it will be some time before we can venture out, safely. Thank you, Mr. Graham.”

Ron just grunted in reply, not one for formal gratitude, and stood from where he had been petting the dogs. “Just keep cooking like that, and you can stay,” he said, before walking to a window.

Will stood and moved over to Hannibal, taking a seat across his lap, arm over his shoulders. He pressed their foreheads together. “It won’t be so bad. He’s evaded the government for years. You can cook all you want, dad can shoot any trespassers…”

Hannibal wrapped an arm around Will’s back, and listened, his head tilted. “It’s much better than lurching from hotel to hotel,” he agreed. “May I cook the trespassers?”

“Yes,” Will whispered, with a smile, “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Then I agree, we’ll settle here for now, until we can venture forth without being captured,” Hannibal murmured, and kissed Will, softly, sealing the deal.

“And if we never leave?” Will asked, still smiling, against Hannibal’s lips, fingers carded through his hair on one side.

“Then we will be here, together,” Hannibal whispered, and kissed Will again, softly. “Not separated and locked in cells for the rest of our lives.”

“That’s most important,” Will agreed, breathing slowly with Hannibal. “Rather live with my father than be away from you.”

“Precisely,” Hannibal nodded, as Ron and the bulldog went outside to look at spots to put the new cabin, leaving the couple alone. “We will do what we must, I will earn my keep as chef,” Hannibal said with a gleam in his eyes.

“Terrible life for you,” Will laughed, kissing Hannibal again.

“I will make due,” Hannibal smiled, and kissed Will, more deeply and longer, holding it. As much as he missed his comforts, and the beautiful finery he liked to surround himself with, being with Will was far more important than any of those things.

Will touched Hannibal's jaw, finally seeing the toils of their relationship come to a boiling point, all but stopping as things fell into place. Kissed Hannibal softly. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Hannibal asked after their lips parted. Their faces stayed close, breathing against each other.

“Compromising,” Will whispered, gazing into Hannibal's eyes.

“We stay together, that is what I want the most,” Hannibal said, and touched Will’s cheekbone with his hand, gently. 

“I’ll make it worth it for you,” Will said with a smile, contently.

“How do you intend to do that?” Hannibal asked, softly, as he stared into Will’s ever-shifting blue eyes. 

“Tell me what you’d ask for,” Will inquired, brow raised.

Hannibal smirked at Will’s ability to turn his question back on him. “You, every day, a kitchen in which I love to cook, and never to sleep without you again.”

“I think I can manage those things,” Will whispered, “Maybe get a green house going, fresh veggies…”

“A shame one cannot carve a harpsichord from logs,” Hannibal murmured, with a little gleam in his eyes.

“That’s what you want?” Will asked, musing a little as he thought about where he might obtain one discreetly.

“I haven’t played since I was in Florence, even then, it was only a piano,” Hannibal said with a wistful sigh.

“Okay. I get it. I’ll have dad put word out maybe, or see if he gets things shipped to the guy down the way he was talking about,” Will offered, and kissed Hannibal’s cheek.

“Thank you, Will,” Hannibal whispered, and leaned closer to Will, turning his head to catch Will’s lips with his own.

Will palmed Hannibal’s neck, and kissed him harder for that, knowing it took a lot of give and take, and the most he could for Hannibal was attempt to find him something he loved. “No need.”

Hannibal pulled Will closer to him with both arms and tangled their tongues together. It was not Florence, by any means, but as Hannibal had learned, even Florence was a hollow pleasure without Will there beside him. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming on the ride with us through all the shitty three star hotels and subpar meals! Join us on [Tumblr!](http://constructfairytales.tumblr.com) to keep in contact and for updates!

As Will and his father got the cabin built, with a nice large kitchen, one bath and one bedroom, Will put out an order for a harpsichord, having it sent to his father’s friend, who didn’t seem to mind too much. Months and months passed, and the ongoing search for them was ever-present, but Will and Hannibal seemed more than happy and content to stay put.

Their cabin was the same size at Ron’s cabin, and Hannibal got his wish for a beautiful kitchen. Everything was made of rustic, earthy materials, but very well crafted, and well polished, which pleased Hannibal’s hunger for beauty. The dogs loved living in the woods and went out with Will and Hannibal every day to run through trees as they hunted and gathered what they needed from the land around them.

After the harpsichord arrived, Hannibal was absolutely satisfied. They unpackaged it, and Hannibal tuned it himself, to his perfect pitch. “This is beautiful, Will,” Hannibal commented as he sat down at the keyboard for the first time, and took a deep breath before he began to play. The pristine, clear notes of his favorite Bach piece filled the air and poured out of the open window into the woods.

Will had his doubts on getting the instrument, that inkling in the back of his mind that it could go all wrong. However, seeing Hannibal happy was enough to let the feeling slip away.

“As long you’re happy…”

Hannibal closed his eyes and took a deep, slow breath as he played, utterly absorbed in the sound and feeling of being able to make music again. “I am in a state of bliss,” he whispered, over the tinkling, pristine notes, a smile lingering on his sculpted lips as birds landed on a branch near the window to listen to the strange, new sound.

Well into spring now, it was much warmer out, and the garden they planted was coming along fine in the quaint glass green house just outside their back door. Will stood with his hip to the instrument, listening. “Good,” he said, leaning over to kiss Hannibal’s high cheekbone before heading into the kitchen.

“Would you mind slipping another log into the wood stove?” Hannibal asked Will as he played. The oven was heating, slowly, for tonight’s dinner, for which Ron always came over. He didn’t say too much, but he always ate more than one helping and started to call Hannibal “son” occasionally, with what Hannibal suspected was a little gruff affection.

“Sure,” Will said, with a smile, and went to gather another log from the pile by the fireplace, and set it inside the stove.

In the distance, Ron hurried toward Will’s cabin, shotgun in hand, running with the bulldog at his side. He burst through the door. “Follow me. Now.”

Will’s brows raised, but he pulled on a light coat, boots already on, and followed his father with a look over his shoulder at Hannibal. “What's wrong?”

Hannibal stopped playing and whistled for the dogs to follow as they raced back to the cabin. “A car is coming, he’s at the gate,” Ron said over his shoulder and threw the back door open to his cabin then rushed to move a rug aside and opened a trapdoor. “Get in.”

Will’s father had seen something they had not been told about, clearly, so Will didn’t question, he simply dropped down and grabbed Buster and then Winston, and waited for Hannibal.

Hannibal lowered himself quickly and gracefully, and Ron closed the trap door, and kicked the rug over it, then went to the front door, gun in hand. 

The dark car was stopped at the gate, but a man in a long coat and a hat was stepping over it. He smiled and put his hands in the air when he saw Ron. “Hi there, sorry to bother, just having some car trouble,” Jack Crawford said, in a calm, deep voice while he looked at Ron’s familiar blue eyes.

Ron raised the gun, calmly. “Get off my land.”

“I didn’t mean to cause any trouble at all, I was just wondering if I could use your phone,” Jack said, not retreating. 

“Don’t have one. This is your last warning. Get off my land, or get shot,” Ron said and pulled the hammer back.

Jack chuckled a little at how familiar Ron’s low, growling, irritable tone was, and nodded. “Alright, alright. What if I told you I’m from the FBI? I’m just looking into some missing persons,” Jack said, frankly.

“I’d tell you to get your sorry ass off my land, and come back with a warrant.” Ron fired a shot near Jack’s head, shockingly close. 

Jack’s eyes widened, and he dodged to the side, then retreated back over the gate, and pulled out his FBI credentials. “I’m looking for a couple of criminals. Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter, have you heard of them?”

“No,” Ron said, bluntly.

“No?” Jack asked, eyebrows raised, “So, that’s not the vehicle they stole in Ohio?” Jack asked, nodding toward the SUV that sat almost covered by trees. 

“I don’t know where the hell it came from. I bought it for parts,” Ron muttered. 

“With the plates on it?” Jack pointed out. Ron pulled the hammer back on the shotgun at that and aimed for Jack’s chest. Jack pulled his own gun, and fired, hitting Ron in the shoulder with the bullet. 

Ron fired back, once, and Jack fell back against his car. The shots were loud enough to be heard inside, in the cellar.

“Shit,” Will said from inside the cellar, and moved quickly to push the door and rug out of the way, grabbing his own gun, he had a feeling this was not the end well situation he was going into outside.

“Will-” Hannibal protested, then followed Will out, quickly, as another bullet lodged itself in the thick wood of Ron’s front door. 

Hannibal upended a thick table and positioned it as a shield before Will opened the door, ready to deflect whatever he could.

“How much you want to bet it’s Jack?” Will whispered, making sure his gun had a good few rounds left in it, and then opened the door, standing back. He had to get to his dad, bullets coming in meant Ron was down.

“I’ll bet dinner,” Hannibal whispered back before he stepped through the door to cover Will with the thick table from the bullets of Jack’s gun that buried themselves in the oak. Jack stopped firing, and Hannibal crouched in front of Ron, who was bleeding from his shoulder and his hand, on the ground, still trying to reload his gun. 

“He’s out of bullets!” Ron called to his son.

“I got it,” Will said, gun in hand, he shot one over their cover, aimed right at Jack’s throat, and then jumped the cover completely, and grabbed his hunting knife from his belt and ran toward Jack with a fury in his eyes.

Jack was here on his own, scouting before he brought anything official, especially not official FBI car.

“Should have have left well enough alone, Jack,” Will said, stopping just in front of the agent, “No one has died, no one has been hurt. What's the harm?”

“Dolarhyde died, those cops escorting Hannibal died when Dolarhyde freed you both like you knew he would,” Jack countered, “you put a drunk in a coma and took his car,” he said, coughing. Ron had shot him in the stomach with the shotgun, and once in the knee. 

“Technically, Jack, we took his Sports Utility Vehicle,” Hannibal corrected as he assisted Ron while the bulldog watched, licking Ron’s face. “It’s not a car.”

Will grinned, knife brandished as he glared at Jack. “Dolarhyde had it coming, we all know that,” Will said. “We can make this easy and less painful, or I can let Hannibal do it the hard way.”

Jack swallowed as he stared up at Will while Hannibal helped Ron into the house. “Does he like the harpsichord?” Jack asked, starting to go paler by the second as he bled all over the ground.

Understanding lit Will’s eyes and he canted his chin just so. “Yes.” Swiftly, he leaned over Jack and cut his throat, slicing it open the way they should have that one night years ago.

Jack’s eyes went wide as he gasped, shaking as scarlet blood poured from the deep slit in his throat, then finally went lifeless as Jack died, and slumped over where he’d been shot. 

Hannibal stepped out, just in time to watch Will make the cut, and to see the life leave Jack’s eyes. He walked closer, behind Will, and laid his hand on Will’s shoulder. “Fate does not allow us to avoid a moment that is destined to happen, not for long,” Hannibal said, and stroked the back of Will’s neck with his fingertips, gently, adoringly.

Will’s fourth kill. He took a deep breath and turned to look at Hannibal. “Well, you have your meat for dinner now.”

“Our meat for dinner,” Hannibal said with a gentle smile and kissed Will’s blood spattered face. “You were magnificent.”

“Hardly another dragon slaying,” Will said with a little smile. “How’s dad?”

“Cursing, and drinking, but he will be fine after I allow him to self-sedate and remove the bullets,” Hannibal sighed, and kissed Will again. “He was quite lucky, though he would likely disagree at the moment. Do we still have our old pain medications?”

“It’s in the medicine cabinet,” Will said, looking down at Jack’s body.

“Perhaps come to deliver them to your father, he’s far more likely to take them from you than some ‘European Quack’, as he’s taken to calling me,” Hannibal said, watching Will.

“He also calls you ‘son’ on occasion,” Will pointed out. “Let’s get Jack to our cellar and then I’ll deal with Dad.”

Hannibal nodded, and helped to lift Jack by the shoulders so that Will could grab his feet, and carried him toward their cabin, then down the narrow, steep stairs into the small cellar that already held a few hanging slabs of curing meat. “On the table…” Hannibal said, nodding to the sturdy cutting table in the center of the room.

Will helped hoist the body up on to the table, panting a little, as Jack was not a light man. He brushed off his hands. “Okay, I’ll go take care of dad, now.”

“I’ll hide Jack’s car,” Hannibal said, and kissed Will’s forehead, allowing him to go up the staircase first before Hannibal followed and found the bottle of painkillers, and handed it to Will. “Just one will be enough, more will not mix well with his scotch.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Will said, and took the pill, holding it in his palm, fingers clutched tightly. He kissed Hannibal one more time before headed back to his father’s house. He got a glass of water and walked it to him, hand out with the pill.

“Take this.”

Ron had towels over his wounds to keep the blood flow under control, Hannibal had tied them in place with just the right pressure. “I don’t need it,” Ron grumbled. 

“Yes, you do. Hannibal needs to get those bullets out and it’s not going to be painless,” Will said, not moving his hand with the pill sitting in it, right in front of his father.

Ron looked up at his son, with a heavy sigh. “You’re not going to give up on this,” he grumbled, able to read Will. “Fine.”

He took the pill and swallowed it dry.

“I don’t usually give up on much.” Will sighed, still holding the water he offered his father and set it on the table instead.

Ron grunted and looked up as Hannibal walked into the living room with the small medical kit that Ron had. “How are you feeling?” he asked Ron and found a pair of gloves to pull on.

“I’ve been shot, what do you think?” Ron grunted.

“He’s feeling great,” Will said, hand on his Father’s back gently. “You’re lucky Hannibal is a doctor.”

“Doctors are useless, just let me go out into the woods to die,” Ron muttered, as Hannibal began to boil a small pot of water on the stove. “Is he going to cook me, now?”

“No, I’m boiling water to sterilize instruments with which I will remove the bullets,” Hannibal said, calmly, and went to Ron’s side to put a couch cushion behind his head. “A clean sheet on the dining table would be welcome, we’ll move him there for the procedure.”

Will nodded and went to find the linens, setting the sheet over the cleaned off table, and then back to his father’s side to help him up.

Hannibal helped to move Ron to the table, slowly, while Ron protested, but was in no shape to fight them off. The water was boiling now, and Hannibal dropped a few clean metal tools into the water, then laid out a clean dish towel on a plate and walked to his patient to take his pulse. “The pain killers are beginning to work,” Hannibal said, satisfied. Sure enough, Ron had begun to look sleepy, and calmer. “I may need you to hand me a thing or two while I work, Will.”

“I’ll be here,” Will said, staying at his father’s side for the moment, but ready to jump if Hannibal needed something. They were a team, after all.

Ron sighed and laid his head back as the painkillers mixed with his scotch, sedating him quite heavily due to the combination of the two depressants. “If his breathing becomes uneven, do tell me,” Hannibal said, calmly, and donned an apron as he used tongs to pluck his instruments from the boiling water, and set them on his towel covered plate, then carried them to his patient. “We will begin with his shoulder,” Hannibal said, and tore the hole in Ron’s shirt wider, then peered into the hole in his meaty joint. “It’s a lucky thing your father has such brawny shoulders, the bullet missed the bone, by approximately half an inch.”

“Very lucky,” Will said, helping in every way he could, while staying close to his father’s head to listen for his breathing, which stayed even, luckily.

“He may recoil as I search for the bullet,” Hannibal warned Will, and picked up a long pair of needle nosed pliers, and began to probe the wound, gently. 

Ron grunted and tried to move, almost asleep, one large hand reaching for Hannibal’s wrist to stop him.

Will took his father’s hand instead, and held it. “Stop, dad, just relax,” Will whispered, kneeling down to be eye level, even if his father had them closed.

“Just leave it in-” he muttered, as Hannibal turned the pliers and angled them very gingerly, then pulled a whole, bloodied bullet out of Ron’s shoulder, and dropped it on the table. “I’ll require a flashlight, please,” he said, calmly, as Ron relaxed again

Standing, Will went to the drawer and found the flashlight and held it up for Hannibal so his hands were free. “Only one in there?”

Hannibal peered into the bullet wound, then used his gloved finger to feel the edges of the wound very tenderly, and nodded. “I don’t feel any fragments of either bone or bullet, and the bullet itself seems sound. I’ll stitch this closed, and it will heal rather well,” Hannibal said, and took a boiled needle and thread from his clean cloth, then began to place stitches in the wound, with a space at the bottom through which fluid could drain. He bandaged it after smearing ointment over it and moved to Ron’s leg.

“Damn doctors,” Ron mumbled, and blinked his eyes up at Will, then patted Will’s hand, with rare affection.

“Yeah, they are a pain, aren’t they, dad?” Will said with a smile, stroking down his father’s thinning hair.

“And you picked one,” Ron muttered, wincing as Hannibal began to probe the hole in the muscle of his right calf. “No accounting for taste.”

“I did. I love him,” Will said with a smile down at his father, trying to distract him. “Can’t tell the heart no. It doesn’t work.”

Ron winced again, and took a deep breath, then smiled up at Will as much as he could. “He’s not bad … for a European cannibal. You couldn’t find an American cannibal?” Ron’s blue eyes looked a little faded and were blinking slowly up at his son.

“What if I am the American cannibal?” Will asked, watching his father nearly succumb to the medications coursing through him.

Ron sighed heavily, and shook his head up at Will. “Don’t eat anyone who doesn’t deserve it, and I won’t give a damn,” he said, finally as Hannibal pulled his gloves off, and looked Ron’s bandages over. 

“The leg wound was much simpler, the bullet traveled clear through the gastrocnemius muscle,” Hannibal said. “So long as you rest adequately, and we keep the wounds clean, I think all should go much better for you than for Jack.”

Ron just nodded and closed his eyes, exhausted now.

“Shall we get him to bed?” Hannibal asked Will.

Will nodded, hooking his arm under his dad, slowly, helping him off the table. “Good idea.”

Hannibal helped, moving the very groggy Mr. Graham off of the table, and into his bedroom where his Bulldog waited with a big smile to have a nap with his injured person. “He’ll sleep a while,” Hannibal murmured, as they covered Ron with a blanket.

“Good, he needs to, he’ll hurt later,” Will said, closing the door for his father and his dog. He reached for Hannibal’s hand. “What’s for dinner?”

“Something we should have had long ago,” Hannibal smiled, and removed his gloves before he took Will’s hand, squeezing it. “I’ll need to get to work, carving.”

“What can I do to help?” Will asked, as they made their way back to their own house, where Jack awaited in the cellar.

“Would you like to help?” Hannibal asked with a gentle raise of his brow.

“If you’ll allow me,” Will replied, “I think it’s time I was less observant and more participant.”

Hannibal looked at Will, impressed, and leaned in to kiss his lips, slowly as he pulled him closer by his waist. “Then let’s begin getting our hands dirty.”

Will kissed Hannibal back, arms around his shoulders. “Let’s.”

Hannibal let their faces nuzzle together for a moment, then took Will’s hand and walked with him into their cabin, down the narrow stairs into the hidden cellar, where Hannibal turned on the lights that illuminated Jack’s body where it lay on the enormous meat cleaning table. “He’s with Bella now,” Hannibal mused, as he undid and slid off Jack’s shirt and coat, letting it dangle over the sides of the table.

“I think he’s wanted that for a while, honestly,” Will said, remembering Bella’s funeral well.

“I think so,” Hannibal agreed, as he took a well-sharpened knife from the wall, and handed it to Will. “Would you like to make the first-” Hannibal looked at the slit in Jack’s throat, and corrected himself, “second cut?”

Will smiled. “I’d love to…” he took the knife in hand. “Show me.”

“Down the center of the chest, from here,” Hannibal pointed to the spot between Jack’s collarbones, “to here,” he said, pointing to a spot just under Jack’s belly button.

“Just cut?” Will asked, moved to place the tip of the knife just at Jack’s collarbone.

“So far, yes. We have to remove the skin,” Hannibal said, patiently, and stood behind Will, one arm around him. “I think perhaps a rack of ribs tonight,” he mused, lips against Will’s ear.

“There’s plenty of meat for that,” Will mused right on back, and started to cut slowly, getting the hang of it first.

Hannibal felt his breath go short at the sight of Will slicing Jack’s chest. It sent tingles down his spine. This was meant to happen, whether it was years ago in Baltimore, or now. They were fated for this. “Good. You are a natural with a blade.”

“I did take Tier apart on my own, though not as skilled as you are,” Will replied, cutting all the way down to Jack’s belly button.

Hannibal watched blood seep out from under the cut, and tint Will’s fingertips as he his heart beat against Will’s back. “You certainly did,” Hannibal whispered, and kissed the side of Will’s neck, then handed him a cleaver from a hook on the wall nearest them. “Use the cleaver to cut through the white part of the tissue there, the muscle should retract to the side to reveal bone,” Hannibal instructed, taking Will through the process of beginning to change a corpse into a feast.

Will switched to the cleaver, and looked over his shoulder at Hannibal. “Here?” He held it over the white muscular part, more than enjoying their new experience together.

Hannibal made a minor correction to the position of Will’s blade and nodded. “Just there, it’s connective tissue, very dense and tough, best if you rock the blade over it to break the fibers.”

Will used two hands then, and did just that, rocking the knife back and forth as the tissue started to give way slowly.

“Good,” Hannibal said, over Will’s shoulder as Jack’s pectoralis muscle finally pulled free on both sides, and pulled open. “Now, sharp, strong blows here, and here to break through the cartilage on both sides of the sternum so that we can open his rib cage. Ideally, I’d use a saw, but this is the best we have at the moment. You’ll have to struggle a little, and twist the blade to crack it apart.”

Again, Will did as Hannibal said, breaking through the cartilage and used the knife to pry. “You did this all on your own before?”

“Yes, never with another person, even once,” Hannibal said as he put a hand on Will’s shoulder to feel his muscle flex, with admiration. “It was a lonely endeavor.”

Will finished his task, with a grunt, and leaned back against Hannibal’s hand just a little bit. “Not anymore.”

Hannibal smiled and kissed Will’s bloody cheek. “No, not anymore.” He looked down at Jack’s body with satisfaction. “I’ll help you turn him, and we’ll separate his ribs from his spine.”

It was unfortunate Jack was a large man, but they’d manage. Will set the knife down. “Alright, let’s do this.”

Hannibal moved to help and nodded at Will before they rolled him over in a smooth movement. “The meat around ribs are generally very tender, much like the postural muscles and abdominal muscles in most animals,” Hannibal said as he demonstrated how to make the clean, long cut down one side of Jack’s spine with the blade, then handed it to Will to do the other side.

Will took the knife and copied just as Hannibal had done down the other side, just a little slower. “Have you ever eaten all of someone before?”

“Very nearly all,” Hannibal said as he watched Will with deep affection in his eyes, still utterly smitten with him. “Save for the brain, some of the lower intestines, of course. I find the creative challenge wonderful.”

“Except for those you left as art,” Will pointed out, “Who was the last person you ate?”

“A particularly insulting professor, who did his best to discredit and insult me before the Florentine intellectual community,” Hannibal said with a little chuckle. “I stabbed him in the temple with an ice pick, he was uniquely abrasive.”

“Brutal,” Will said with a little smile. “What next?”

“Use the cleaver to separate the spine from the ribs. Once more, you will need to use force, and a twisting motion-” Hannibal said, and then demonstrated by driving the cleaver into the intersection of a rib and vertebrae, and twisted it to separate the two.

Will took the knife back, and did the same, with some work, to get the ribs away from the spine, but after a few good tries, he managed.

“Good, very good,” Hannibal praised, and kissed the back of Will’s neck, above his collar where his curls were just beginning to grow back. “I wish I could have done this with you from the very start.”

“At least we’re doing it now,” Will said, not wanting to stir up the past at all, they made an agreement not to.

“Precisely,” Hannibal agreed, with a purr as Will worked. He loved feeling and watching Will work like this, it was intoxicating. 

Will worked, with a few more whacks and grunts, and finally, it all came apart. “Okay. What’s next?” Honestly, it was intimate to do this together, and a little fun.

“It will be best to remove and skin his upper limbs, then the shoulder girdle, and then the ribs,” Hannibal said, sensibly, and pulled a knife from the block on the counter behind him with a smile at Will. “I will demonstrate on one side, you follow on the other.”

“Best way to learn,” Will mused, touching Hannibal’s back with his hand gently.

Hannibal smiled back at Will and began to work. It took hours to disassemble Jack’s body, but the time flew as the two of them worked in parallel. Will was a fast study, and already good with his hands. What would have felt grueling alone was a joy with Will to teach. 

Finally finished, Hannibal had choice cuts of meat wrapped in brown paper and gathered what was not worth eating of Jack into a large plastic bucket for disposal. “I’ll have to burn these, in a bonfire to destroy the evidence,” Hannibal said, as he sprayed the table with a bleach solution and allowed it to sit for a few moments while he mopped the floor.

“I can go start one,” Will suggested, “and then I’ll go check on Dad.”

“Thank you. I’ll finish up down here, and then bring up our meat, so we can begin dinner,” Hannibal explained, and leaned closer to kiss Will, on the lips. “Thank you, Will.”

“Anytime,” Will whispered as he kissed Hannibal back slowly, and then let go. He jogged up the stairs and found some firewood and went out into the back yard area to set up a bonfire.

By the time the fire was crackling, Hannibal had cleaned their carving room and walked out to the bonfire with the bucket in hand. “It’s a beautiful fire, I’m sorry that I have to besmirch it,” he said, admiring the flames. “Did you look in on your father?”

“Not yet, going to now. I’ll be back,” Will said and went inside the other house to check on Ron, but he was still fast asleep, so Will let the dog out of the bedroom and gave him some food and water, and then went back out to the fire.

The smoke was burning much darker now, thicker as Hannibal scattered the last bits of Jack’s remains into the fire, and watched them shrivel, and turn to ash, reverently. “How is your father fairing? Still slumbering?” Hannibal asked when Will neared.

“Yeah,” Will replied, simply, and touched Hannibal’s back with one hand, watching the flames and smoke.

“Do you think he will join us for dinner?” Hannibal asked as he leaned against Will.

“As long as we don’t tell him it’s people he’s eating,” Will shrugged.

Hannibal chuckled and turned them to walk back to their cabin. “Your father is a bright man, I think he’d know,” Hannibal said, as Winston and Buster ran over to meet them, wrestling a stick between them.

“We can ask him, if he says no, then, well, more for us,” Will said, leaning in to kiss Hannibal’s cheek.

Hannibal took the stick from the dogs and threw it away from the fire. Both dogs raced out to chase after it, happily, and Hannibal held the door open for Will. “Would you like to help me prepare dinner?”

“I’d love to,” Will replied, and stepped into their quaint cabin.

“I’ve already picked sage from our fledgling herb garden, we’ll have enough of it to season the rib roast,” Hannibal said. The cut of one rack of ribs laid in a silver cooking pan on the counter, ominous and ready to be seasoned.

“That sounds wonderful,” Will said, honestly loving their little life here, despite having to hide, it didn’t bother him much.

Hannibal, much to his surprise, loved it just as much. They had no access to the finery he enjoyed, but the simple pleasure of waking up next to Will in the midst of peace and quiet was more than enough. He had begun to appreciate the elegance of the wilderness around them and the challenge of cooking well with what they had. “It will be wonderful, a feast long in the making.” 

He lit the oven and stoked the coals before he closed the door, and turned to wash his hands in their sink. “It’s important to sear a roast before cooking it in the oven,” he explained to Will as he filled a pan with olive oil, and swirled it before placing it on the stove.

“I know a few things about cooking,” Will said, but didn’t mind Hannibal teaching him a few more.

“Then would you mind searing the roast while I prepare the spices?” Hannibal asked, one eyebrow arched.

“I can do that,” Will said, going to the roast and putting a pan on the stove, turning it on.

“Thank you,” Hannibal said, and busied himself with adding just the right amount of salt and dried herbs to a small bowl. “This reminds me of preparing lomo saltado with you.”

“A little bit,” Will said, quietly, as he got to searing the meat on one side first. “I think we’re on a better level now though.”

“Much,” Hannibal agreed with a deep breath of the smell of searing roast. The scent of this particular sort of meat was one he had not smelled in years. He rubbed sprigs of sage with olive oil and then sliced onions as Will worked. “I think Jack found his end to be a relief.”

“Why is that?” Will asked, curious, though they were likely thinking the same thing. He turned the roast over to sear the other side, sizzling in the hot pan.

“He came alone, no warrant, no radio in his car. When I searched his vehicle, there was no tracking device,” Hannibal pointed out.

“It was personal. He’d be stupid to think if he did find us, that he’d live to tell about it,” Will added.

“He was, perhaps, ready for his story to end,” Hannibal agreed and smiled over at Will as he laid the onion slices in the pan, then reached down a hidden, very rare bottle of red wine, and peeled the sealant from the mouth of the bottle to reveal the cork. “I had your father ask his farmer friend for this, and saved it for a special occasion. I now realize I neglected to ask for a corkscrew,” Hannibal laughed.

Will reached into his pocket for his swiss army knife and handed it to Hannibal. “Got one on here.”

“My hero,” Hannibal smiled and kissed Will for that before he took the corkscrew and went to work. “I half expected you to have some incredibly masculine way of taking it out with a hunting knife and your teeth.”

“If needed there are ways to get that open, but it might require breaking the bottle,” Will said with a smile and moved the seared roast to the pan for the oven.

Hannibal pulled the cork from the bottle and took a slow, deep breath of the scent, not having smelled red wine since the evening they killed Francis. He added some to the pan, then poured a little into a glass and swirled it to help it breathe. “Perhaps next time,” Hannibal teased, fondly.

“Next time I’ll be less prepared for you,” Will teased.

Hannibal inspected the roast, then put a little more seasoning on it, and set it in the wood oven, then closed the door. “You are at your best when you are forced to improvise.”

“What am I otherwise?” Will asked, brow raised toward Hannibal.

“Charming,” Hannibal teased his abrasive beau over his shoulder.

Will snorted at that. “Really? Charming?”

“To me, anyhow,” Hannibal said, honestly. He found a certain sort of charm in Will’s prickly demeanor.

Will turned his head to give Hannibal a coy look and then kissed his high cheekbone. “Only opinion that matters is yours anyhow.”

“Thank you,” Hannibal murmured at the kiss and pulled Will closer to him with one arm. “You had me captivated and enchanted when you told me not to psychoanalyze you.”

“That’s not saying much for me,” Will chuckled, arms around Hannibal’s shoulders.

“Nor for me, I’m afraid. I’ve never been easily wooed, believe it, or not,” Hannibal murmured, lost in Will’s eyes.

“Oh, I believe that,” Will said as he leaned into kiss Hannibal softly, more than content in their homely little life here, together.

Hannibal sighed, and kissed Will back, then tilted his head so that their lips locked. His arms circled around Will’s waist, hands curling at the small of Will’s back to keep him there. Likewise, Will held Hannibal tighter as their kiss deepened, letting out of soft, content sigh.

Hannibal groaned, and pulled Will backward, toward the bedroom as they kissed, pausing to lean back against a wall so that he could pull them hip to hip and wrap a leg around Will’s.

“How long do we have?” Will asked, breathlessly, between heated kisses and undoing Hannibal’s shirt.

“An hour,” Hannibal whispered, and began to undo Will’s, quickly, then sucked his lower lip.

Managing to get into the bedroom, Will pushed Hannibal’s shirt off his shoulders and then pushed him down onto the bed, neither one of them in critical medical need any longer. He crawled over Hannibal as he shimmied out of his pants and shoes and tossed his own shirt to side. “More than enough time.”

Hannibal pulled Will down to him and yanked his shirt off as their mouths met, and tongues searched for one another, then tangled. His fingers raked over Will’s back and he arched his hips against Will’s groin, rubbing against the heat between Will’s thighs.

Will undid Hannibal’s pants to relieve him of them, and then sat over his hips, grinding them both together through the thin, worn fabric of their boxers. Kissing Hannibal more heatedly, harder, Will nipped at his lips.

Hannibal clutched at Will’s narrow hips and stared as Will undulated over him. “Will-” he said, breathlessly, his toes curling against the mattress. He rubbed one palm against Will’s cock through his boxers.

Will reached over Hannibal into the nightstand to bring out the lube, and then stripped himself of his boxers, and then Hannibal as well, before slipping between Hannibal’s legs this time, running a hot palm up Hannibal’s thigh, to his cock.

Hannibal’s head fell to the bed, and his thighs spread, wantonly, at Will’s touch. He was hard, of course, throbbing already under Will’s hand. “I love your hands,” he confessed, between deep, quick breaths.

Will other hand spread through the thicket of hair on Hannibal’s chest, as he palmed down his cock to his balls, and pressed his thighs further apart. “Let me take you…”

Hannibal gasped, softly, at the thought, and looked up at Will before he sat up to kiss him, harder. “Please,” he whispered, accent thick as the pretty word fell from his lips.

Until now, Hannibal had lead things, but Will was more than ready to venture out on his own, so to speak. He lathered his fingers with lube and gently pressed one and then two into Hannibal as their lips clashed and meshed together seamlessly.

Hannibal’s thighs quivered at the touch, as his body adapted, and stretched around Will’s fingers to pull Will into the tight heat of his body. “Ah-” he gasped, wordlessly, and arched his hips so that the small of his back came up off the mattress.

Will pressed his fingers in deeper, rubbing against Hannibal’s prostate gently, just at first, as he worked his fingers open and shut to stretch Hannibal open, readying him. 

Hannibal writhed in utter bliss, breathing hard as Will fingered him. It had been years and years since he’d felt anything at all in that particular spot, and he had tears in his eyes from the sheer visceral power of Will’s fingers there. “Will-”

Will removed his fingers and instead soaked his cock with the lube, and very, very gently started to press into Hannibal, letting the man under him lead the way as Will gazed down into his eyes. “Hannibal…”

Hannibal clutched Will’s shoulders with shaking arms, and kissed him hard, trembling from head to toe as he wrapped both legs around him to pull Will in, deeper, greedy for him. Will gasped into the kiss as he was plunged into the hilt, slipping past the tight ring of muscle there.

“Oh-” Will managed, holding there for a moment longer before he started to snap his hips into Hannibal’s.

Will was filling him now, completely. He watched Will’s face, witnessing the experience of Will doing this for the first time. “Yes-”

Hands on either of Hannibal’s shoulders, Will started to use them as leverage, thrusting up and into him, over and over, panting and picking up speed. “Hannibal…”

“Harder-” Hannibal gasped, as his nails dug into Will’s back as it flexed, “fuck me harder, Will…”

The sound of Hannibal talking like that made Will buck faster, hands moving to Hannibal’s thighs to push them toward his chest, driving down into him as he lost control of his body that pulsed with pleasure.

Hannibal could not hold his orgasm back for a second more when he felt Will erupt inside him, hot and thick. He called Will’s name as he arched and writhed, his body afire as he shook and coated his stomach.

Finally slowing, once he’d fucked Hannibal through his orgasm as well, Will fell onto his forearms over Hannibal, between his legs, and kissed his lips softly. “I love you.”

Hannibal cupped Will’s face with both hands and kissed him as their hearts pounded against each other’s chests. “I love you.”

After a few moments of catching their breath, Will gave Hannibal one last kiss and then slipped out. “Let’s clean up before we go get dad.”

Hannibal sighed, content to stay in bed with Will indefinitely, but let him stand, and then joined him with a pleased groan when he moved. He kissed Will again, “I can still feel you inside me,” he whispered, against Will’s lips.

“Good."

 


End file.
